


Veil of Two Faces

by BirdSpirit



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, It's Elise what do you expect, Some other relationships at the beginning, slowburn, some body horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26144542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdSpirit/pseuds/BirdSpirit
Summary: A black rose. Few have seen the symbol and even less know its meaning. Noxus stands strong under the rule of its Trifarix, created by none other than Jericho Swain, the unexpected survivor of the matron's devious plans. Now, the secret cabal reaps the consequences of that fateful day, as does the entirety of Runeterra.
Relationships: Cassiopeia Du Couteau/Elise
Comments: 30
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you OnionsAreDisgusting for beta'ing and putting up with my shit :D

If someone had told Elise last week that she would very soon find herself hiding in the Du Couteau gardens _with_ _Cassiopeia of all people_ being pelted by a barrage of short daggers, the Spider Queen would have laughed in their face before promptly lopping their head off and grabbing a glass of wine to settle down for the night. But as it stood, here she was, being cornered by a stone-faced but still murderous red-headed assassin and lacking any sort of alcohol or comfortable furniture.

She jerked as another razor-sharp blade thunked into the wood of the tree she was concealed behind, the metal singing from the force of which it had been thrown. “We haven’t got all night!” she called, glaring at the snake curled behind the fountain.

The younger Du Couteau sister was attempting to peep around the stone, only to yelp and withdraw jerkily as a weapon was hurled dangerously close to her nose. “Cassiopeia, if you don’t do something, I will kill her myself!” Elise snarled.

The snake stopped long enough to hiss at her, lime eyes flashing furiously, “Quiet! You’re not being helpful!”

They exchanged angry glances as another dagger flew between them. Inhaling deeply, Cassiopeia darted into the open, and Elise turned away, closing her eyes as she heard the serpent screech.

* * *

**One week earlier…**

“Yes, matron, he has been sending them North to Drugne. This time with a small force of perhaps fifty,” the man nodded almost vigorously.

Elise wanted to roll her eyes. Instead, she worked close to the dark ceiling with an air of semi-patience, running a red-tipped claw along a line of silk, smoothing over the slightly frayed edges and reinforcing them with new webbing. She rebalanced herself on all eight legs, searching for any remaining imperfections. It was her ritual whenever she was “encouraged” to listen to reports. That is, when she was asked to be present because another fool had decided to betray the Black Rose’s trust. LeBlanc was toying with him at this point, asking him questions that had nary to do with the situation at hand. But of course, their sweating, twitching little “friend” was too nervous to tell. Elise could feel his heart beating at the rapid pace of a hummingbird’s wings. It’d be a shame if he died of a heart attack first.

It seemed the Deceiver had finally decided she was bored, uncrossing her long pale legs and making as if to bid the man goodnight. And what a good night it would be. As he bowed, Elise rappelled downward, snatching up her victim and bundling him in a trap of silk. She left him free from the neck upwards so she could hear him scream. However, the man only let out a pitiful yelp, frozen in fear as he dangled upside-down in the air. Elise brushed her chelicera in disgust. He had wet himself.

She crawled past him to the ground, an enormous black widow spider that towered over LeBlanc. Her fangs curled in anticipation as LeBlanc sauntered over to the man, drawing a finger across his cheek. “Fear not,” the arcane mage whispered to him softly, “The intel you’ve provided will be put to _very good use_.”

Elise watched his throat bob as he swallowed, a bead of sweat rolling over the tattoo on his neck and towards his chin. She focused on the dark ink, barely able to discern the shape of a sharp feather in the dim room. The man suddenly began to jerk, finding his voice again at something the matron murmured into his ear. “No, please! I didn’t-“

LeBlanc shot her a look, and Elise sank her fangs into his chest before he could continue begging, injecting her venom straight into his heart. She pulled away, and crimson crept over her silk cocoon as the man gave a soft wheeze, blood flowing from his mouth. His struggles died rapidly as paralysis took over, and Elise carelessly tossed him into the web overhead with a jerk of a silken strand.

The hoard of spiderlings on the ceiling came to life, swarming over the incapacitated body like ants until there was nothing but a writhing dark mass. A soft crackle sounded over the hisses of hunger that filled the air, and the carapace receded from the black widow’s body. Elise stretched, eyebrow cocked disinterestedly at the scene above her, “What a waste of space.”

“I think your pets would disagree. They get a free meal, after all,” amusement laced the matron’s tone as she turned on her heel and sauntered towards the door, “Walk with me, won’t you?”

Leaving the remnants of what was once a man within the chamber, the pair made their way through the winding labyrinths of the Black Rose. Few were active at this hour; even those so enamored with the dark arts had their limits. LeBlanc’s well-manicured nails tapped at a particular spot on the wall as they turned the corner, and a stairway opened up before them. The soft tap of their heels echoed as they ascended into the night. The alleyways of this area of the Immortal Bastion were narrow and winding, much reminiscent of the maze that housed the secret cabal.

Illusionary magic danced through the air, disguising them as street urchins once they reached a wider market street. LeBlanc allowed the silence to hang for another moment before she recited, “A broken agreement bound by blood magic is made known immediately to all parties. The offender may suffer a fate of anguish or worse under the discretion of the pact creators. Furthermore, attempts to sever the bond will result in the immediate death of the perpetrator.”

Elise’s crimson hues searched LeBlanc’s face, rather perplexed by the choice of conversation. She waited for her to continue. “The underground consists of enchantments to prevent tampering of the mind. Thus, it is rare that I encounter an instance in which a bond is broken without my knowledge, and in a lowly spy, no less,” LeBlanc finished contemplatively.

Elise tilted her head, “The man just then…?”

“Yes.”

The spider hummed. “Is retaliation in order?”

“I’ve never been opposed to a bit of fun. It has been a while since I’ve had an adversary worthy of my attention.” LeBlanc replied.

“You chessboard _is_ falling into a state of disuse,” Elise commented.

“That is your doing more than mine.”

Elise scoffed, “Ferrying souls into a hungry mouth takes both time and patience.”

LeBlanc only threw her a secretive smirk instead of replying. Silence enveloped the pair once more. Elise could practically hear the scheming of the matron’s mind as the many well-oiled gears turned. LeBlanc’s strides slowed to a stop, and Elise followed suit, wondering what was so important about this specific area of the street. There was no one in sight, for it was quite late into the evening and-

She almost lost her balance as LeBlanc teleported, dragging Elise with her. They reappeared on the rooftop of a tall building, shadowed by a chimney and far above what the regular pedestrian eye could see. The matron snickered, a devious smile upon her face as she successfully caught Elise off guard. The spider eyed her suspiciously, “Stargazing is quite unlike you,” she hedged.

“Elise, dear, try a new hobby occasionally. You may find it refreshing,” pulling her embroidered cloak more closely around her body, LeBlanc glided to the edge, “Soreana has received word of Marcus’s disappearance. Her daughter is on her way to Noxus under the pretense of assisting in the investigation.”

“Cassiopeia knows?”

“As much as her mother does. I do not see a purpose in keeping this information from her.”

Elise slid out of the darkness and shifted close to LeBlanc, directing her gaze to where LeBlanc’s attention was. Du Couteau manor. “The rest of her family may pose an issue,” she suggested.

“Cassiopeia is well-acquainted with secrets. You shall understand when you meet her,” LeBlanc purred, leaning against Elise and tracing her index finger over her jawline.

Elise’s crimson irises turned questioningly to her, but LeBlanc only smirked, amber hues glittering with delight and schemes, “Do me a little favor, won’t you?”

* * *

Wine red orbs darted quickly from side to side as she skimmed a dusty tome her magic held open, one arm leaning upon the sleek ebony wood of an artfully crafted dining table as the other held her morning tea. All was quiet in her manor. The maids, who were paid handsomely to keep the place clean and organized, knew just as well that they were not to disturb its sole resident. With one of her extra legs, Elise abruptly closed the book with a loud thump, internally lamenting that there was so little regarding the magic reservoir of petricite and its manipulation.

Perhaps she should go directly to the source. Sylas, was it? The Demacian rebellion had long since been quelled, but the word of a mage manipulating petricite for his own whims shook the very base of what so many magic-users knew, sending ripples of both unease and interest alike across Valoran. Elise was, of course, part of the latter group.

Her well-cushioned chair slid back with a soft squeak of protest as she stood, cleaning her teacup with a lazy wave of her finger before sending it zipping back into a cupboard. She brushed some lint off the leg of her pants and checked the gray blouse she wore for stains. She needed a refresher on the history of petricite. Perhaps she could snag a piece from LeBlanc. She knew the matron kept a small store of it _somewhere_.

Disappearing in a puff of smoke, Elise reappeared just outside her mansion. An unassuming brick wall stood before her, stretching protectively around the property of one Reiné Vauclain. Elise reached out with a slender finger, tracing an intricate circle upon the stone. As the last line fell into place, a soft rumble was heard before the hidden doorway slid to the side, revealing a path that led into a yawning, dark chasm. Elise entered at an easy stride, the click of her heels accompanied by the torches of manafire flickering to life as the entrance closed.

One of her spiderlings scuttled overhead, and Elise waved away a cobweb that dangled from the ceiling. The Black Rose catacombs could be eerily quiet at times. Fears of the unknown (and the multitude of traps and wards) kept the very few who accidentally happened upon them from exploring further. Her path forked. Elise went left, then left again, and a right. The tunnel ended abruptly as a large pile of rubble from a cave-in, but she walked straight through the illusion, unbothered by its presence.

There were a few abrupt clicks, followed by the scrape of something hard against rock. It was pitch black, and Elise had to rely on her arachnid senses to determine the source of the sound. The clack of teeth as a jaw snapped shut directly in front of her face did not make the mage jump. Instead, she let out a tsk and reached forward, petting the creature that had stalked over to greet her. “Very funny, Aevus.”

The chimera trilled in response, thrusting his narrow snout into her palm as she scratched his chin. She smoothed his fur down, passing the line of photoreceptors beyond his muzzle. Her fingers dug gently behind his large ears, giving him a good scratch, “You haven’t had any visitors, have you?”

A yip. Elise snapped her fingers, teleporting a piece of meat from the cooler of her kitchen into the air overhead. Aevus immediately lunged upward to snatch it within his jaws, swallowing it in one big gulp. He wandered back to Elise, talons tapping against the ground. She trod past him this time, giving his short horns a slight tap before pulling back. “Have fun, dear.”

She heard his long tail whip once through the air, followed by silence once more. Aevus guarded the enormous chamber that led to the path of Elise’s mansion. It contained multiple tunnels that led to dead ends and unpleasant curses; only those knowledgeable of the labyrinths would be able to navigate it. Murmuring a transformation spell, she shifted into a plume of smoke, zooming towards the heart of the Black Rose. Everything seemed like a maze of rock, but Elise weaved gracefully through the tunnels like it was the back of her hand, eventually reforming to swipe her palm over an invisible symbol embedded into dusty stone. The illusion twisted briefly, and three more steps placed her promptly in the north wing of the cabal. No one disturbed her as she strode purposefully towards her destination. Most were still in bed.

The enormous Black Rose library was easily identifiable due to the golden circle that marked the towering door, engraved with elegant symbols from a long-lost language - _Knowledge has a beginning but no end_. Those fortunate enough to be granted access often sought the darkest mysteries of magic or the forgotten secrets of historical Runeterra. The protective ward flared as Elise pushed the entryway open, but it quickly settled upon identifying her aura. She inhaled the familiar scent of papyrus, basking in the wealth of unlimited knowledge and the thrum of arcane magic twisting among the tall shelves. Before her was a podium upon which sat a document – _Seek and you shall find_ was written neatly at the top. Elise made her way over, grabbing the feather pen that popped into existence as she neared.

 _Petricite_ , she wrote in delicate cursive.

She set the feather down, and immediately the ink danced off the paper, swirling into the air and upward before being swallowed by the vastness of the library. A soft fluttering sound reached her ears, and several books flew into view, organizing themselves neatly so that she could peruse their titles.

_Accounts within Petricite Grove._

Elise tapped its spine twice, and the tome settled neatly into her hands as the others floated back to their homes. She turned the cover, already scanning the near-perfect script of the author as her feet directed her towards a private corner to read. The sound of flipping pages alerted her to the presence of another, and she peered around a shelf to find none other than Vladimir leaning casually against a wall of books, a novel of his own floating before him.

Known to the lesser population of the Black Rose as simply the Crimson Reaper, he was dressed in a fashionable suit with a dash of thin crimson stripes running vertically along his dress shirt. The organization was run by fear as much as respect, and many stayed clear of the hemomancer who had a reputation of ending lives in the most gruesome fashion, a correspondence to his often melodramatic behavior. He spotted Elise almost immediately, and a wide grin spread across his face, “Ah, your majesty! What can I do for you this fine morning?” the flamboyant words were combined with an equally theatrical bow, and Elise rolled her eyes as she stepped into the aisle.

Did using Vladimir as a test subject for curses count as a new hobby? she wondered, recalling LeBlanc’s words from the previous night.

“And here I thought I could have some privacy for a few hours,” she drawled, coming close enough to peek at what he was reading.

He made no attempt to hide it and turned the cover so that it was directly facing the arachnid mage. She raised a brow. “What, _mind-control_? Did one of your subordinates accidentally splash red fruit juice too far?”

Vladimir let loose a chuckle at that, shaking his head. “Emi has found quite a few moles lately, hasn’t she? I had to expel one from my circle just last week. Such a pity. I wanted to return the favor, and my little contact gave me the most peculiar news,” he stopped there, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Elise resisted the urge to slap him. “And?” she pressed.

His light pupils met her wine-red ones as Vladimir leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper, “The Grand General and the Hand’s little brother were spotted conversing like regular people!”

If Elise valued books less, she might have immediately smacked him with her own. Instead, she took a deep breath, internally scolding herself for falling for another of the Crimson Reaper’s pranks. “Forgive me for ever having the thought that you could provide useful information,” she deadpanned, beginning to back out of the aisle.

“Elise, darling,” Vladimir drew out the second word as he melted into a river of blood, flowing forward to block her path before neatly reforming, “do you consider me so dimwitted that I am incapable of proper judgment of others? Why, the Crimson Circle does an enormous favor to the Black Rose and provides a substantial number of sacrifices for the one, true Spider Queen. Most of them are handpicked by myself! I suppose now we must consider that they’re not trustworthy at all, and rumors of the terrible fate to befall ever such loyal subjects would spread to-“

The aforementioned Spider Queen, who had been listening to the spiel with increasing irritation as her spider legs curled and uncurled in a manner akin to one impatiently tapping their fingers, shot a ball of webbing directly at Vladimir’s face, covering his mouth and cutting off the rest of his speech. She waved her hand dismissively. “Go bother Emi about it. I’m not interested.”

Vladimir said something, but it was muffled as he tried to tear the silk from his mouth. Ignoring him, Elise drew her finger through the air, stepping through a small portal that brought her to her regular secluded corner of the library. She emerged atop one of the ledges carved into the wall as part of an intricate design that mimicked the pillars of the Immortal Bastion. She could see the other side of the room from where she sat, high above the shelves and close to the glass ceiling that was enchanted to display a real-time account of the sky over Noxus. Elise opened her book and began to read.

Petricite had previously been thought as an all-powerful counter to magic, and any sort of records to prove otherwise had come from faulty experiments and inexperienced scholars. Then came Sylas’s rebellion. Why was he able to succeed where so many others had failed? Elise used her finger to underline the words as she skimmed one entry after another. They were outdated, but the mistakes of those in the past gave insight into the discoveries of the present.

_This place is a gift from the gods, a true sign that they seek to entrust us with the responsibility of cleansing all of Runeterra. Those corrupted by magical affliction will hold us hostage no more! From these roots that purify the darkness, we shall build an empire, one free from suppression and fear. Today, we fashioned arrows from the golden leaves and set upon our attackers. They were left defenseless, as this blessed stone suppresses any and all forms of magic. It appears to exude an aura. Proximity affects the mages just as well. There is no limit to this power! It is late into the night now, and our adversaries have yet to cast a single spell. We can sleep soundly, for they are without weapons and morale._

It was a completely preposterous notion, but what if no one had actually attempted to unlock the uses of petricite beyond its shallow character of restraining those who were magically gifted? The fact annoyed Elise, but even she had taken the white stone at face value. Mages feared petricite. They would not seek it, let alone experiment with it. Even the small reservoir LeBlanc kept was only used in specifically dire situations. Elise decided she would indeed procure a piece from the matron.

She marked her page before closing the tome. Tapping the upper left corner of the cover three times produced a sharp, needle-like point, upon which Elise pricked her finger. A drop of blood welled up and she allowed it to fall upon the book, where it snaked across the soft leather before weaving itself into the material near the bottom.

_Elise Kythera._

Properly regarded as the temporary owner of _Accounts within Petricite Grove_ , she teleported it back to her mansion before shifting into a plume of smoke, rushing towards the library floor and scattering out the door. Others roamed the halls now, but they knew to step out of the way as Elise’s ghastly form swept past. Some that were not quite quick enough and still blinking away the vestiges of sleep were treated to a cold consciousness briefly grasping at their heart as she uncaringly hurtled through.

For the gifted, the Black Rose offered sanctuary as much as power. That is, unless one was secretly marked for Elise’s sacrifice. The labyrinths were well-guarded and equipped to house those without a proper home. LeBlanc was legendary at spotting potential, specifically amongst those who had been cast from their circles. She was never one to let a resource go to waste.

Elise entered the matron’s private wing and pressed against the privacy charm that led to LeBlanc’s study. It gave easily, indicating no other visitors were present. Tendrils of darkness pulled her under the door, and she spotted LeBlanc seated comfortably in a well-cushioned, velvety chair, scrawling across a piece of parchment. A porcelain teacup decorated in black roses sat not too far from her right. Elise floated across the room, swirling teasingly around the woman before finally solidifying with her hip pressed against the desk. LeBlanc did not look up from her work, although the spider did spot a pleasant smile across her lips, “Miss me already?”

“You’d be too preoccupied to speak if I did.”

“Touché,” the matron finally set her feathered pen down and turned to face Elise, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit then?”

“You have a little supply of magic-absorbing stone nearby?”

LeBlanc was silent for a moment before she reached for the woman’s free hand; Elise’s other was pressed upon the glossy surface of the table. Long pale fingers, warm from nursing her drink, curled lightly around Elise’s wrist. LeBlanc pulled her closer. “For what purpose?”

“Nothing sinister, I assure you.”

The matron easily spotted the deflection as she guided her to sit upon the armrest. She patiently regarded Elise as she reached for her tea. “I was reading about the Demacian rebellion against the Mageseekers,” Elise rested her arm on the back of the chair, one of her spider legs curling around LeBlanc’s shoulders.

“Amazing how so many spent centuries believing what transpired was out of the realm of possibility,” Leblanc brought the rim of porcelain to her lips, tilting the cup briefly.

“Tell me you’re not the least bit curious.”

The matron hummed, “If you wish to play with what I have, do it here.”

“Voyeurism again?”

Chuckling, LeBlanc drew the back of her hand across the side of Elise’s thigh, her knuckles skimming the silky material. “I will have it ready for you when you bring me what I asked for.”

Elise made a sound of agreement, “Fine.”

“Tea?”

* * *

Lounged upon her antique, but still comfy, couch, Elise tapped one of her nails against an empty vial. A clear sound briefly rang out. She held it up to the light, wine glass in her other hand. A protective spell, only perceivable by those of magical talent, hovered around the small container, preserving the integrity of whatever would find itself inside. She placed it in her pocket, glancing at a quietly ticking old grandfather clock across the living room. Early afternoon. She absentmindedly fingered at the dark onyx ring on her left hand as she debated, feeling the piece of stone thrum with blood magic. The Noxian took another sip of her drink, spotting a spiderling crawl across the back of the sofa in the corner of her eye. It made its way over to her lap, and she trailed the pad of her index finger past its dark abdomen. She downed the rest of her wine and swung her feet to the carpet, standing up. Her pet skittered away from her towards a shadowy corner.

A snap of her fingers made the world spiral, and Elise reappeared wearing a stylish black long coat with golden buttons lining the front, hidden under the shadow of a large tree. Her form had settled into the illusion of a middle-aged woman adjusting her lapels, brunette hair wound tightly into a bun. Placing a pair of sunglasses over her face, she leisurely strode down the path and through the gate of the Du Couteau mansion. The entrance of the massive house would be intimidating to most; the doors that were decorated in golden vines traced into the family’s sigil towered as tall as a full-grown ursine. However, Elise wasn’t most people, and she didn’t hesitate as she reached for the knocker.

There was a moment of silence, and she rested her palm against the hardwood. She felt a set of almost imperceptible footsteps on the other side, indicating to Elise that it was no ordinary servant. Elise knocked again, and the entryway opened with a resigned sigh. A pair of emerald eyes glared at her, and a redhead leaned her hip against the door as she eyed Elise suspiciously. Ah yes, Katarina, one of the Grand General’s dogs. “Good afternoon, Miss Du Couteau,” the mage offered a sly smile as the name slid off her tongue, “I am one of your sister’s associates, and I hear she has returned to Noxus. Could-“

“Cassiopeia is not here,” Katarina interrupted.

This gave Elise pause. “No? Perhaps you can direct me to her whereabouts then? She asked for me. Something about snake oil,” she pretended to muse.

The assassin stared for a moment before shrugging, not taking the bait. “She was gone as quickly as she came.”

“I see.”

Cassiopeia’s condition was, of course, not common knowledge, but only people in her closest circles knew of her current presence within Noxus. “She did not tell her own sister where she was going?” Elise raised an eyebrow.

Katarina’s scowl returned, “I respect my sister’s privacy. I suggest you do the same.”

The door was shut in her face, leaving Elise blinking at the knocker in annoyance. Of the few times she had interacted with the assassin using various illusions, the redhead had always been awfully blunt. It wasn’t doing House Du Couteau too many favors, especially now with the absence of its headmaster. She was so unlike her sister and mother. Elise backed slowly away from the door, expanding her magical aura to search for suspicious signs within the mansion. The wards had been reinforced recently, Elise noted. Layers upon layers of magic-canceling charms covered the brick, and any less experienced mage would have simply concluded there was nothing of interest within the massive house. But Elise knew better.

Katarina was likely watching her from the window, so she turned and leisurely made her way back to the main road, only pausing when she was well-hidden behind a pair of shrubs outside the wall that encircled Du Couteau mansion. Magic erupted throughout her body, a quiet snapping sound pouring into her ears as it shifted and bent. Dark carapace slithered across her skin as she shrunk down to the dimensions of a normal black widow, just barely larger than a piece of gold. Elise squeezed through the bushes, crawling up the stone barrier and hopping onto the grass beyond.

Unfortunately, her size prevented her from moving too quickly. It took her a solid few minutes to make her way to the rear of the house and navigate through the maze of a garden. The rumble of the water fountain seemed so loud to her smaller form. Now that Elise was closer, she checked again for signs of magic beyond the wards.

Curses were powerful. They had to be, for often they lasted millennia, hopping from victim to victim. That meant those infused with such magic found it difficult to hide from other mages. And there. It was faint – whoever had done the warding was experienced – but Elise could see the slight rippling of a disturbance on the second floor. She skittered up the rough surface of the wall to a bedroom window with closed curtains. Fortunately, wards never accounted for spiders breaking and entering, so it was a simple matter for Elise to teleport straight through. She reappeared on the sill behind the drapes and crawled around to get a view of the room. Empty.

A large bed, bigger than anything a person would normally have, spanned the center. Accompanying it was a display of variable golden jewelry adorning the wall, with a pair of glowing claws being the most eye-catching in the dim light. On the other side of the room was an enormous ornate mirror with what appeared to be a walk-in closet to the right. An L-shaped black leather couch sat in the remaining space beyond the bed, light fur rugs draped across its back. Elise held very still for a moment but couldn’t perceive any vibrations. She realized the magical disturbance she sensed previously had disappeared. It was slightly unsettling, but if anything attacked her, it likely wasn’t a good idea to be stuck in the form of a small arachnid. She darted into the nearest corner, a rush of dark magic returning her to her illusionless human form.

Utter silence.

Elise took a step forward, closer to the bed. The thick carpet muffled her footsteps, but she knew someone was able to sense her every movement. There was nothing on the ceiling. Throwing invisible webbing forward, she inched further into the room.

Something thick and cold wrapped around her chest almost immediately, pinning her arms to her sides. Red hues widened in surprise as she was dragged backward, another pair of coils taking their place around her stomach and legs. She felt a huff of breath tickle her ear before a smooth voice purred, “The matron should teach her pets to knock.”

A pair of hands encircled the sides of her face, and Elise’s magic flared instinctively before her neck could be snapped. She teleported herself across the room as her attacker clutched at air. Elise reappeared leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed in disapproval. There was a massive shadow backed by the soft light of the curtained window, and a pair of lime green eyes bobbed towards her. An annoyed hiss filled the air, and the mass of coils shifted as the serpent slithered closer.

Elise’s ring of the Black Rose flared, glowing a bright white. A brief spark from the opposite side of the room answered it, and both remained a neutral color, indicating that the only people present were of the organization. The spider tsked, “Aggressive, yet _so_ slow. That new form is quite cumbersome, isn’t it?”

A hiss of a command word filled the room with warm lighting, giving Elise her first look of the transformed Cassiopeia Du Couteau. Gone were her human legs; instead, they had been replaced by a long tail of which Elise could see no end, rippling with muscle and power as the snake loomed haughtily over her. Smooth scales of emerald and inky patterns covered her body neatly from her hips and onward, morphing into a golden underbelly lined with a darker, keeled texture. Various areas of her upper body had patches of the protective plates as well – from what Elise could see, there were some on the line of her jaw and forearms. She wore a loose white wrap top whose low neckline was accentuated by a jade pendant. A sash hugged her waist, and wavy dark chocolate hair framed her face.

A quiet vibrating, humming sound reached her ears, and Cassiopeia spoke in a drawling tone, “I enjoy playing with my food. I wouldn’t get too comfortable.” A forked tongue flickered out, briefly revealing a gleam of sharp fangs.

The spider let out a mock gasp, a hand to her mouth. “Hesitating at an opportunity to take a life? My, what would your sister say if she knew?” she whispered scandalously.

Cassiopeia exhaled, unamused at the jab as her bright eyes roamed Elise’s form covered in her fancy coat. Her pupils had been transformed into thin slits like those of a cat, and as they caught each other’s gaze, the spider felt control of her body slip slightly, her next inhalation coming sharper than normal. The serpent caught this and smirked. Naganeka’s curse, Elise thought, her interest flaring.

“Katarina, unlike you, is more respectful of my privacy. Now, to who and what do I owe the _pleasure_ of your presence?” Cassiopeia settled back, her movements smooth and graceful as she lounged casually upon her coils, still eyeing the other with the same predatory gaze.

Elise noted that when she spoke, anything with the “s” sound contained a soft hiss, only further adding to her serpentine features. Her red lips quirked, “I simply wanted to see for myself what form of exotic monster the power of a great Shuriman curse produced. I’m delighted to say I’m not disappointed.”

“Many ambitious men and women alike have fallen before me playing games they cannot win. Do not tempt me to lead you to the same fate.” There was the rattling sound again.

The arachnid mage released a breath of laughter. “Are you challenging me?”

“Only if you desire to become a stone decoration in my garden.”

Elise’s answer was her confident grin, “Ooh, kinky.”

The chartreuse gaze narrowed. Taking a step forward, Elise produced the vial from her pocket, tossing it toward the serpent with a flick of her wrist. A hand shot out to snatch it from the air, much like a viper striking its prey. “For your poison.”

Cassiopeia tapped the mouth of the vial with a sharp nail, producing a high-pitched ringing sound, “And what do you plan to do with this?”

Elise shrugged sarcastically, “From my experience, high concentration toxic substances tend to be used to murder people.”

She received a chortle at that, but Cassiopeia now carried a secretive smile that made the mage’s crimson hues intensify in suspicion. The snake languidly uncoiled and began to circle Elise, “Ah, you didn’t know, did you? I can make anyone’s heart stop in seconds…or I can make it beat so fast it bursts from their chest. I can blind them. Paralyze them. Or maybe,” she floated closer to Elise, daring to walk two fingers slowly up her arm, “I can keep them aroused for _hours_ ,”

Elise would not give her the victory of pulling away. “I can see why you would have issues doing that the normal way nowadays.”

Cassiopeia’s expression didn’t change. “Perhaps I’ll allow you a sample when you least expect it and you may inform me how you feel afterward.”

Another challenge. Elise leaned closer. “I’ll consider it a gift,” she taunted. “LeBlanc wishes to do away with a member of the Trifarix’s court. You decide what she needs.”

The younger Du Couteau sister hovered for a moment as she thought, “Very well. Why not something undetectable?” She retreated, a sickly green mist now trailing from her finger.

She tapped the vial, and a clear, viscous liquid slowly dribbled in, almost as invisible as it was dangerous. The serpent held it up, glancing at the arachnid mage curiously, “You’re not going to carry this upright the entire time…?”

Elise did not dignify that with an answer and raised her hand forward, fingers humming with magic. The top of the vial folded in, enclosing the poison in a cage of glass. “Ooh, a neat parlor trick,” Cassiopeia’s tone was teasing.

She held it out for Elise to take but snatched it back as the mage reached for it, tsking playfully, “Ah, ah. You didn’t tell me your name yet.”

The spider raised an eyebrow at her, “What, and rob you of the opportunity to discover it for yourself?”

The naga pretended to think. “That would be dependent on how soon the matron wants her little concoction...” she trailed off.

Elise sighed dramatically, “You may call me Elise.”

The serpent hummed, “Very well, Elise,” she put extra emphasis on the ‘s’ and then shook the poison slightly, “What do I get in exchange for this?”

“The matron will owe you a favor,” the mage replied, but Cassiopeia shook her head in disappointment, a malicious glint in her eye.

“Considering my father’s recent _untimely_ disappearance and her request that I return to Noxus to appear as _the desperate daughter in search of her loving father_ , I would think she already does. She has quite a lot on her plate, and I would hate to add more to that, don’t you think?”

 _This_ was why LeBlanc had sent her, specifically. The _weasel_. “I will not be owing favors in her place. If you have an issue with that, you may take it up with her. However,” Elise pondered for a moment, a plan forming in her mind, “If you wish to know more about your father, then that can be arranged. With a price of course.”

The serpent’s tongue flicked out as she considered the offer, “That is…?”

Elise grinned. She began to draw a runic circle in the air, “Contact me tomorrow two hours past midday. You may use this.”

A blue crystal encompassed by a soft glow dropped out as she finished the teleportation spell, and she held it up for the naga to take. Cassiopeia’s cat-like eyes narrowed in suspicion, “An awfully vague proposal. Tell me more,” she hissed.

Elise was careful with her next words, “Your curse hails from ancient origins, and with it comes powers only held by the ascended of Shurima. Your aura is unique. I wish to see how it reacts to various…substances I have been observing.”

The snake hummed, not seeming fully convinced, “You do not appear to be the scholarly type.”

“Appearances can be deceiving. You will not be harmed. You have my word.” In _theory_ , what Elise had in mind shouldn’t hurt her.

The sending stone she had conjured was abruptly plucked from her hand. Cassiopeia flipped it in her palm before her attention darted back to Elise. A playful smile snaked its way to her face, “Pinky swear on it?” she opened her mouth, pricking the pad of her last finger with one of her fangs.

Cassiopeia then held her hand out, a bead of blood gathering at the tip of her finger. Elise held her ring underneath, allowing the red liquid to drip onto it. A hum of magic gathered between them, and Elise felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She sliced her index finger open with a quick, muttered spell. The humming stopped as soon as her blood touched the onyx of Cassiopeia’s ring. “Very good,” the naga purred, tossing the vial of poison at Elise.

She caught it deftly and slipped it into her pocket. “Don’t be late,” Elise gave her an exaggerated bow, arm sweeping to the side, and was gone before Cassiopeia could reply.

* * *

The Spider Queen strolled casually through the hallways of the Black Rose, relishing in the way the younger mages hurried to step aside whenever they encountered her. Her lack of involvement in the outer circles, namely the newly recruited, left an air of mystery about her as one of LeBlanc’s closest accomplices. People were often curious but too fearful to approach her. This left them with only rumors of what she was – a demon, a Vastayan, a Void being. She never put a stop to these whispers; they were all too amusing.

Stepping into a quieter, more restricted hallway, she approached one of the doors. Feeling rather mischievous, Elise shifted into a small spider, a black widow crawling underneath the entryway. The murmur of voices grew clearer, and she heard a particularly gruff one, “With all due respect matron, those details rarely reach anyone not part of this assembly. How are you positive there is not a traitor within our midst as well?”

Teleneus, a middle-aged mage who wanted more than the Black Rose would ever give him.

Granted, in their line of work, it did pay to be paranoid, but some used it simply as an excuse to step out of line in an attempt to garner more favor. The arachnid darted across the floor, still unnoticed by those seated around the wide table. She made her way to her regular spot, but decided to take a detour as she heard the last of Teleneus’s speech, “…In fact, have you questioned the Spider Queen’s lack of presence for this urgent meeting?”

He dared to imply that she was actively sabotaging the Black Rose? A tap of one of her forelimbs manifested a spiderling skittering undetected up one of the legs of the man’s chair and onto his body, disappearing into his robes. LeBlanc’s response was calm, “You accuse dear Elise of treacherous intent? I expect you have evidence for your claim.”

“An associate of mine reported her presence at Du Couteau manor shortly before this meeting started.” Teleneus answered proudly as he stood, “As we all know, both Katarina and Talon are blade masters under the late General Du Couteau, who was an avid supporter of the Grand General.”

Very odd that someone had been able to tell that it was her, Elise thought. “Interesting. But where is your proof?” LeBlanc only sounded curious, as if she were truly considering his suggestion.

Teleneus bowed, “I shall have my contact send you a scry recording.”

Elise made her way under the table to where LeBlanc and Vladimir sat. “Good,” the Deceiver replied pleasantly, “And Teleneus?”

“Yes, matron?” His voice sounded hopeful, like a dog wishing for a treat after performing a trick.

“Who gave you the order to spy upon her?” Her voice turned eerily cold, and every member of the table grew still.

Elise chuckled internally to herself as she crawled up the leg of an empty chair. “Well,” he sounded hesitant and a little fearful, “I took initiative to ensure that we do not have anyone who falsely pledges loyalty-“

“So you admit to spying upon everyone present?”

Elise didn’t need to look to know people were throwing glances amongst each other. The old man was silent now, having lost his words after being chastised. LeBlanc’s amber hues were narrowed, but she leaned back, the rest of her form relaxed. “However, I am impressed by your results, so perhaps this once I can make an exception.” For those who knew her all too well, it meant he would soon find himself on the chopping board.

Teleneus looked as if he wanted to throw himself to his knees in praise of the matron. “I expect to have that scry recording as soon as possible,” she finished.

“Y-yes, matron! Thank you!”

Silence still pervaded the chamber as he sat down and attempted to make himself scarce in his chair. LeBlanc’s lilt tone soothed it, “If there are no more objections?”

No one dared voiced their dissent. “Very well,” the matron purred, “Dismissed.”

Elise leaped to the top of her seat on LeBlanc’s right as people began filing out, noting that the arcane mage placed a hand on Vladimir’s shoulder as a gesture to stay. The Crimson Reaper’s displeased gaze followed Teleneus as he exited, “ _Well Emi, it seems you were correct. The old rat couldn’t resist pointing fingers,_ ” she murmured telepathically to the pair as the door clicked shut.

Dark magic filled her being as her body twisted into her human form. She stretched and flexed her spider legs, propping her head up with a hand as she leaned onto the table.

“Elise, how wonderful for you to finally join us,” Vladimir greeted cheerfully.

“You heard the entirety of his speech, I presume?” LeBlanc asked.

The spider nodded in affirmation, still rather perplexed, “I wove an illusion before I arrived, a ways from Du Couteau manor. I teleported from my place, but no one should have been able to follow me from there.”

“So either,” the hemomancer started, “this so-called spy knew your precise location at that exact time, or they were there for a different purpose, and your presence was a pleasant distraction.”

“It may be helpful for me to mention that Cassiopeia seems to prefer maintaining the image of her absence. News of her curse has come and gone; it would be beneficial to take advantage of people’s curiosity at this point instead of sticking to the shadows.”

“His spy may have been there to watch her,” LeBlanc suggested, “I will speak with her in the event she has noticed something amiss. It is futile for us to speculate, presently. Teleneus will reveal his hand to me in due time. For now, we carry on as usual.”

Vladimir simply shrugged in agreement but then he shot Elise a mischievous smile, “Did you manage to ‘bug’ that old crone, at least?”

She rolled her eyes at the pun, “Yes.”

LeBlanc made a sound of amusement, and Elise glared at her accusingly. The matron met her gaze steadily, daring her to comment. “At least someone appreciates me,” Vladimir sighed forlornly, but his expression brightened almost immediately, “Ah! Speaking of scry recordings, I have something of interest – from this morning. Thank you for your continued support, as always.” The last statement was directed sarcastically at Elise.

“I try my best,” she replied innocently.

He reached inside his jacket, producing a small piece of papyrus upon which a circle of symbols was engraved. Opening it and setting it on the table, Vladimir pressed one of the characters. An image manifested before the trio, showing the familiar frames of Draven and Jericho Swain conversing within the military stronghold, judging by the charcoal black walls. However, the words were unclear due to the distance of the recording. They stood tensely with their arms at their sides, and as Elise observed the Glorious Executioner’s face, she recognized that his familiar boastful grin or haughty smirk were missing. Odd, but not groundbreaking.

Then Draven saluted before sauntering away. Elise blinked.

He _never_ saluted.

Arrogant as he was skilled with his throwing axes, he respected those with authority as equals, never as superiors. That much was obvious upon watching him in the Reckoner’s arena. Vladimir paused the recording, holding up a finger at Elise as she attempted to speak, “If one manipulates the recording such that it identifies magic signatures…”

He waved his hand at the image, and both men dissolved into swaths of blue light. The Grand General’s appearance was expected, but Draven, who had no magical inclination whatsoever…

“An imposter,” LeBlanc breathed.

“One who needs to hide their identity within Noxus itself,” the hemomancer nodded.

“Does the recording follow him?” Elise queried.

Vladimir shook his head. “Swain was to hold court immediately after. This Draven disappeared shortly within the crowd.”

“Have your contacts carry on. Cast a locator spell upon the impersonator if they are found again,” LeBlanc murmured, still eyeing the screen before her, “I will personally see to a signature tracking charm at the Crimson Circle. It is a predictable point of interest.”

The hemomancer leaned back with a sigh, “Time to trim the rosebush _again_ , I suppose.”

LeBlanc turned to Elise, an eyebrow raised. Taking that as her cue, Elise produced the poison Cassiopeia had given her, rolling the glass orb across the table towards Vladimir. He snatched it up with a curious eye upon its inner contents. “A gift? Elise, you shouldn’t have.”

“She said it cannot be detected. It may be wise to verify that before taking any chances,” she turned to the matron, scarlet orbs narrowing in exaggerated displeasure, “When were you planning to tell me that she wishes to know the whereabouts of her father?”

LeBlanc had the decency to look sheepish, but it lasted for approximately half a second. “Cassiopeia never directly informed me about it, but I don’t see a reason to hide that information from her,” she shrugged innocently.

Elise must have still had a disgruntled look on her face, because LeBlanc suddenly blinked into her lap, her arms wrapped around Elise’s neck, “If it caused you any trouble, dear, I truly apologize,” LeBlanc cooed, “Shall I make it up to you? Let’s go for lunch tomorrow, yes?”

Feeling as if she was being spoken to like she were a child, the arachnid mage refused to make eye contact with her. “Vladimir,” the matron called when she received no response, “any suggestions?”

The hemomancer put his hand to his chin in thought. His eyes lit up, “Ah, a place serving a mix of Ionian and Shuriman recently opened in Mortoraa. I guarantee it is suitable for your exquisite tastes.”

LeBlanc let go of Elise to press her hands together. “Excellent. Tomorrow at noon. You’ll be there won’t you, Elise?” she leaned against her with a pout.

Finger’s twitching, LeBlanc summoned a swirl of magic in her palm. A tan leather pouch popped into existence, and the arcane mage presented it to Elise. Wine-red hues finally darted downwards to glance at it before it was snatched from her palm, “Get off of me.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” LeBlanc patted her cheek before moving back to her seat.

Elise raised the tiny bag to eye level, feeling the weight of the petricite shard within but none of its magical properties. She fixed LeBlanc with an inquiring look. “Vastayan leather,” LeBlanc replied, “Mixed with certain ingredients, it wards off the effects. Unfortunately, less useful for warfare since it requires the petricite to be completely enclosed. And the fact that it is more…complicated to procure.”

Elise hummed in thought and tugged at the drawstring, already picturing the feats she could accomplish once she was able to manipulate the stone to her will.

She had barely loosened the knot when three sickly green bolts burst from the bag and hurtled towards the occupants of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cassiopeia makes something hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OnionsAreDisgusting is my beta and thinks onions are disgusting.

The Spider Queen was, unfortunately, the closest victim to the sudden eruption of curses.

Arcane magic flooded the room. LeBlanc’s counterspell delayed the stream of green rushing towards Elise, giving her time to duck out of the way. She knocked over two chairs in the process, landing on the ground with one of her spider legs twisted at an uncomfortable angle. Ignoring the bruises surely forming on her hips and shoulder, she scrambled backward, realizing that the matron was single-handedly keeping all three bolts from their targets. Her hold was slipping, however, and the curses continued to move in slow motion. The markings on her face emitted a bright lavender hue as she increased her efforts. Elise darted under an angry bolt and dove towards the open petricite satchel, pulling it shut before tossing it to a corner. Now on her back, she threw her hand up towards the twisting ball of magic much too close for comfort, managing to halt its advance completely.

LeBlanc must have sensed her do so because Elise heard her begin a different spell. The emerald bolt shuddered and began to creep forward once more. She couldn’t hold it by herself, Elise realized, even as she pushed with all her inhuman strength. Vladimir was likely in a similar situation, but she dared not turn to look, lest she lose her concentration. A visible ripple of purple energy exploded from LeBlanc’s general direction, forcing the curses back momentarily. However, they returned, and Elise found herself once again in a losing battle as she squinted her eyes and winced away from the roaring bright green inches from her face. She could still hear LeBlanc chanting, and it became clear to her what as she felt magic suddenly drain from her being.

Elise resisted reflexively, clutching at the power she needed to protect herself. She felt a flash of rage at LeBlanc’s pretension. Of course, she would use _them_ to save herself. She was a fool to think the _Deceiver_ would ever-

LeBlanc’s presence nudged against her mental barriers, and the arachnid mage spared what little concentration she had left to open a link so that the matron could feel her rage over the betrayal.

_Elise, please._

LeBlanc’s tone held no hint of her customary playfulness or arrogance. She sounded serious for once, and past her own anger, Elise felt fear and desperation, both of which were overshadowed by the determination to _get this curse the hell out of their faces_. She managed to tilt her head up far enough to meet LeBlanc’s hard gaze.

And let go.

Magic left her being like an exhale of breath, and the enchanted emerald bolt struck her shielded aura, seconds away from coursing through her being. Elise squeezed her eyes shut.

 _“Venisti remanebis donec denuo completus sis!_ ”

An eruption of force shook Elise to her very core as the curse flailed. It shot to the center of the room, shattering the table before rushing upward and disappearing through the ceiling. Elise stared after it in shock until wood chips began to rain down, forcing her to shield her face. She weakly got to her feet, feeling the effects of the vampiric spell LeBlanc had cast. There was an exhale behind her, and Elise turned tiredly to see the winded matron leaning on her staff and Vladimir brushing dust from his hair. A mixture of relief, exasperation, and confusion whirled through her heart as Elise approached LeBlanc, putting a hand on her shoulder as she swayed.

“That was too close for comfort,” the hemomancer sighed crossly at his soiled outfit, “Remind me to not be nearby the next time you open presents. What is _in_ there?”

“Petricite...” Elise trailed off.

Someone had managed to rig the pouch to trigger a trap if opened. LeBlanc was the obvious target…unless that person had known Elise would be in possession of the shard. The Deceiver attempted to straighten, pushing her away with a touch of frustration. “I sent the curse back to whoever cast it. We need to track it,” she took a breath, “And I need to check the vault. It may have been compromised.”

Elise glanced at her hands. They were shaking. Scowling, she flexed her fingers in an attempt to summon any sort of magic. Nothing. “I had not expected the curse to be so potent. I took more than I intended,” LeBlanc tried, noting her expression.

The spider just shook her head and glanced around the space, seeing the shattered table, the strewn about pieces of cushioning, and the damaged chandelier barely hanging from the ceiling. Trudging to where she had thrown the petricite, she picked it up but dared not open the pouch again. Instead, she brushed herself off with her spider legs. Vladimir had draped himself over the remains of a chair. “That almost killed the three of us,” he was saying, “We are in no state to pursue our offender.”

LeBlanc’s face was expressionless, but the arachnid mage could see the flash of annoyance in her eyes, “Then we must lock this room down. Word of this incident is not to reach anyone.”

“We’ll check the signature tomorrow,” Elise looked at the bag in her hand, almost expecting another curse to burst out again, “How could this happen?”

“I have a theory,” LeBlanc’s tone was tight at the reminder of being caught off-guard.

Smoothing down her cloak, she began to head towards the scorched door, stepping around the ruined furniture. Elise and Vladimir gave each other a look before following. In the hallway, the Deceiver drew an X across the entryway, activating the lock that would prevent anyone from entering. Those who passed by knew better than to question the matron for blocking off one of the meeting rooms. The trio made their way out of the corridor, towards LeBlanc’s quarters. Multiple people stopped to greet the matron, nodding respectfully at Elise and Vladimir. LeBlanc had a pleasant smile plastered on her face, but Elise could tell she was stiffer than usual. They eventually reached the matron’s chambers, where LeBlanc pressed her hand against a rune circle on the far wall. It lit up at her touch, and Elise and Vladimir wordlessly reached for her shoulder as they were transported to LeBlanc’s private repository.

It was a dimly lit dome-shaped chamber, restricted to all other than LeBlanc herself and the guests she personally authorized. They appeared in the center, surrounded by guard stones and charms poised to slaughter any trespasser. The restrictive forcefield was active, although it flickered and became transparent once the wards identified the matron’s magical signature.

“I find it difficult to believe anyone can enter this place without you noticing, let alone locate anything,” Elise commented as they stepped over the protective shield’s border.

The space was so full of arcane magic that it made her every hair stand up with charged energy. She curled her spider legs and rubbed them together to ease the prickly sensation. To the naked eye, the room seemed entirely empty past the center. However, if one explored the area and looked closely at the ground, they would see a plethora of unrecognizable symbols. LeBlanc tapped once every few feet with her staff, seemingly at random, but Elise knew there was a pattern. Too many incorrect taps would trigger a trap, but ordering them properly would uncover a unique display. As the matron touched the seventh character, a stone shelf slid out from the wall.

Peeking over LeBlanc’s shoulder, she could see multiple pouches similar to what she had been given. There were colored dividers in between some of them, and the Deceiver reached for the two on the rightmost side of the case. She held her free hand over the rest, and the murmurs of a spell reached Elise’s ears. She grabbed LeBlanc’s wrist. “Stop. I do not want to have to find you another host so soon.”

Amber orbs darted to the fingers encircling her arm before flicking into vermillion hues. Vladimir’s gaze switched between the pair, but he said nothing. A tense beat passed before LeBlanc reluctantly pulled her hand back, and Elise released her. The Deceiver began to walk away, staff touching more symbols as she moved. She held up the tiny bags, “These, as well as the one Elise has, are the only pieces that have traded hands since I attained them. We will have to check them for signs of tampering.”

“Surely not by opening them?” Vladimir questioned.

“It would have been too obvious to enchant the outside of the pouch. I would have cursed the inside instead, which would dampen the effects of any attempt made to search for…” Elise began another train of thought, “The shard itself was cursed, wasn’t it? Someone fed it a vast amount of power, knowing you wouldn’t be able to sense it.”

LeBlanc turned back to her with a grim nod. A brick had slid away across the room, and the arcane mage reached in to retrieve a marble-like object. A seemingly harmless artifact, its depths swirled a misty white. She made her way back to the petricite drawer, holding the magical item close to each pouch in succession. Elise could perceive no reaction, even as LeBlanc did the same with those in her hand.

“I suppose we will indeed have to open them to find out. And to think petricite was pesky before,” she murmured with a sigh as she replaced the marble, “Sylas, dear boy, it seems you have created more problems than you have solved…”

* * *

Elise felt the smoothness of silk against her skin, and the familiar scent of lavender muddled her senses. She identified the warmth curled next to her as LeBlanc and allowed her eyes to flutter open, her sight landing on a dying lamp burning the last vestiges of oil. The satchels of petricite lay next to it atop the bedside desk, one marked with bright red ink.

After visiting the vault, Vladimir had declared he had business to attend to at the Crimson Circle. He snapped his fingers hoping for a teleportation spell, but LeBlanc’s enchantment had done a number upon both him and Elise. “I suppose I’ll take a transportation circle then,” he seemed rather nonplussed as he bid the women goodbye.

The pair had absconded to LeBlanc’s chambers in the heart of the Black Rose headquarters, and although the matron had (for once) all but collapsed into bed, Elise herself had planned to take a short break before returning to her mansion. So much for that.

Her fatigue had receded somewhat, Elise noted as she sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed. Even though she tried her best to not jostle LeBlanc, the woman still stirred, turning sleepily to face Elise before she could leave. The nightgown she had changed into was sinfully thin, allowing the arachnid mage to see the peaks of her chest as she shifted from the covers, “Why don’t you stay the night?” LeBlanc asked softly.

Elise’s momentary hesitation was enough to cause the matron to reach out and give her crumpled blouse a slight tug. Giving in, Elise slipped her bare feet back under the sheets. She lay down with her hands behind her head as LeBlanc comfortably slotted herself into her side. A spider leg curled downward to brush a deep blue lock of hair from the matron’s face. Warm fingers danced at the hem of Elise’s shirt before dipping underneath to caress the silky expanse of her stomach. Elise relaxed into her touch. She had her eyes closed until the other spoke, “I frightened you today, dearest Elise.”

The arachnid mage snorted in faux amusement. “I’m _fine_.”

LeBlanc refused to buy the statement. “I informed you, a millennia ago, that as long as you stay by my side, I will not abandon you. Not if I can help it.”

“ _Even as Valoran withers and grows, as the blizzards bleed strife, and as the sandstorms swallow all hope_ – yes, I remember how dramatic you were,” Elise half-heartedly rolled her eyes.

“And I will always be so if another attempts to take what is precious to me.”

LeBlanc’s tone was playful, and Elise knew this was the closest she would ever get to an apology for doing what she had done. “Our outcome was based on pure luck,” she started, “If the curse had triggered in any other instance in which at least one of us had not been present, then-“

“I do not take this lesson lightly, Elise. We will be prepared should the perpetrator attempt anything more along similar venues. Do not fret,” the pad of her thumb against Elise’s pale skin increased in pressure lightly, pushing the tension away from her muscles.

Elise sighed, and her gaze wandered as the conversation died off. She caught herself looking at the tiny, unassuming pouches of petricite again. She felt LeBlanc turn her head slightly as she followed her sight. “I had wanted to see if I could harness the magic within, but I may have to consider more preparations if we do not want a repeat of today,” Elise admitted.

“New subjects of magic tend to require erring on the side of caution. Do you remember when necromancy was suddenly the rage?”

Ah yes, a time centuries earlier in which an ambitious young boy would have turned the entirety of Noxus into another Shadow Isles had Elise not intervened in time. LeBlanc was swift to deal punishment as well as lock all necromancy archives under special access. That got a smirk from Elise, “Well I’m told being undead requires no sustenance or rest, two things that you often lament over.”

“Absolutely. The vast amounts of work required to sustain such a form are completely insignificant,” LeBlanc deadpanned.

“You order everyone to do your work, regardless, so what is the difference?” Elise snickered.

The sound turned into a soft yelp as the gentle hand that had been massaging her stomach came down with a firm slap. “Your impudence will earn you no favors,” the Deceiver mock scolded as she pulled her palm away to rise and straddle Elise, pushing the blankets back to the foot of the bed.

She leaned closer, pressing her lips to Elise’s ear as she tugged at the sleeve of her top, “And _this_ is improper sleepwear,” the arcane mage whispered.

Elise’s hands automatically found themselves at her waist, caressing the jut of her hip with her thumb. She dared to explore lower, “About to order me around again?”

“You _scoundrel_.”

* * *

Elise carefully toed the ring they had drawn in charcoal on the stone floor. It was intricate, with symbols and various swirling lines woven over the border to counter any magic they would potentially release. She and LeBlanc stood in the meeting place from yesterday, staring at the pouches of petricite they had placed in the middle in contemplative silence. They had shoved all the broken furniture to a corner to make room.

“Shall we proceed?” the arachnid mage ventured.

The matron nodded decisively. Elise cautiously raised her hand at one of the bags. As soon as she tugged it open with magic, an explosion of green whirled out. It immediately made a beeline for the two mages, but the runic circle flared a bright blue, locking the curse within its cage. The two enchantments fought for dominance, and Elise felt LeBlanc tense next to her as they watched. Abruptly, the green faded away as all the magic within the petricite was exhausted. Elise released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She nodded at the matron and repeated the process with each shard of the ivory stone.

Just to be thorough, they closed and reopened the pouches in an attempt to trigger any residual magic from the curse. There was none. Elise fished the petricite from the one she had marked red the night before. “I wove a protection charm in my study this morning. It should negate any ill effects should an incident occur,” the matron said.

Elise raised an eyebrow at her, “How thoughtful of you.”

LeBlanc was on edge if she was creating wards herself for Elise’s use. Not that the spider could blame her. “Let me know if Vladimir returns. I will see you at noon?”

Elise just nodded, and the Deceiver was gone. There was still a touch of tiredness in her limbs, but her current state was much improved over her powerless status from the day before. She disappeared in a puff of smoke, popping into existence in the cushioned leather seat of LeBlanc’s study.

Predictably, any spell she attempted was immediately absorbed by the unique stone once the Vastayan leather was removed. It was as if she hadn’t cast at all. Elise held the shard in her palm, squinting at it before placing it upon the desk. She couldn’t _feel_ anything. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes before reaching out once more.

It was as if there was a black hole in her senses when petricite was around, endlessly eating all available magic within its reach. Elise concentrated on the lack of nothingness, attempting to ignore everything around her. Perhaps there wasn’t enough magic stored inside?

Crimson orbs opened to stare crossly at the unassuming piece of stone. She grabbed it again and spun idly in LeBlanc’s chair to face the wall. Accounts could be inaccurate, but Sylas had only needed to make contact with another mage to steal their power. Then again, he had spent _years_ within his prison. Elise felt a touch of frustration at the notion it might take just as long to be able to bend petricite at will.

“Darling Emilia, I come bearing news of our recent dilemma. It seems as if the magic was readily absorbed by its caster and…” Vladimir’s theatrics trailed off as Elise turned around to regard him with a dispassionate look.

There was a beat of silence before, “Another fraud! When will the betrayal end?” he declared, mournfully placing the back of his hand to his forehead.

“Oh, out with it, you _leech_. What did you find?”

His grimace morphed into a smirk, and he made himself comfortable upon the couch, idly picking up the queen from the chessboard on the coffee table. “Where is Emi?” he asked instead.

“Putting a locator spell on her slipped my mind. My apologies,” Elise returned sarcastically.

She uncrossed her legs and got up with a huff, striding to the loveseat opposite to Vladimir. The hemomancer tsked, “Elusive that one, I tell you. Ah, did I ever inform you I have a new fashion of leash at my place? I would like to try it sometime.”

“Around your own neck?”

“I’m afraid I have home-field advantage, darling. Your dreams will stay as such.”

Elise cracked a smile as he replaced the chess piece. “Better. You seemed rather dour before,” Vladimir offered a grin of his own.

“Perhaps I’ll tell you if you let me know what you’ve found.”

“As I was saying before I was emotionally shocked to my core,” he raised his finger firmly at Elise as she opened her mouth to retort, “The trail abruptly disappeared at the high command fortress. Whoever attempted the nasty trick simply took the magic back. However, this does mean if we happen upon that person, we will be able to identify them. Curses are difficult to be rid of.”

“So, a needle in a haystack,” Elise mused.

“In theory, yes. But nothing a little espionage cannot handle. And you love, what’s gotten your panties in a twist? More than usual, that is?”

Elise decided not to comment upon his little slight. She lifted her curled fist towards him, opening it to reveal the petricite in her palm. “Mmm, yes. _That_ ,” Vladimir plucked it up with his thumb and forefinger, frowning at the shard, “Attempting to become the next Sylas?”

“Something like that. What do you think?”

He held still for a moment. “Nothing,” he declared at last, “A pulse exists within everything and everyone, but petricite? Utter stillness.”

“So it would seem,” Elise tilted her head, “Try Cassiopeia’s poison upon it.”

Vladimir frowned, but fished the glass orb out of his pocket, “This?”

The spider nodded. She could sense faint magic within the substance. Perhaps the petricite would simply cause it to dissipate? She waved her hand at the cupboard, pulling out one of LeBlanc’s many wine glasses and setting it upon the table. The orb reshaped itself into a dropper, and Vladimir added a small amount to the presented container. The pair watched closely as he dropped the petricite in.

To the naked eye, nothing occurred, but Elise cocked an eyebrow with interest as she felt the magic within the poison seep into the black hole. The liquid itself remained. Vladimir squinted at it. “It’s…water.”

Elise hummed thoughtfully.

If anything, that gave her more insight into Cassiopeia’s condition. She fished the shard out with a strand of webbing. The disaster yesterday made it apparent that petricite could hold curses. How would it react if the serpent herself touched it? She hadn’t noticed Vladimir get up and found him now leaning against the loveseat with an arm casually flung around her shoulders, “I sense a scheme waiting to hatch, and I want in.”

“I’m not scheming.”

“An untruth. I feel it in your heart. It beats faster when you have plans to be executed. Just as it does when you’re _excited_ ,” the last word turned into a mischievous purr.

“Is it time for me to impale you again?”

One of her spider legs jabbed pointedly at his neck, but Vladimir only laughed, “Emi would be devastated if she returned to find her furniture stained.”

“This is why I vouched for maroon or black. Instead, we have _white_.” Elise rolled her eyes in mock annoyance, “I am meeting with Cassiopeia today. She was not a natural-born mage, but the curse has invoked her with magical powers. I am curious as to how she will react to _this_ ,” she dangled the petricite shard loosely upon its string.

“The plot _thickens_. Don’t you dare begin without me.”

Elise tilted her head towards him, “Emi still wishes to meet at noon.”

“Then I better find myself some more appropriate attire. Until then, your majesty,” he dared to press a kiss to her forehead before dissolving into crimson smoke, leaving the arachnid mage quietly contemplating what was in her hands.

* * *

One of the very first things Elise had learned within the Black Rose was the power of appearance and its manipulation. How a slight change in posture, expression, and even height could alter the amount of attention one was given and the respect with which they were treated. A certain master of illusions had taught her how to blend in, to make people forget what they had seen, or to turn heads and ensure they believed everything before their very eyes. After all, most humans were easily fooled.

Drakehounds, unfortunately, not so much.

The Spider Queen had donned a long silver-embroidered cloak and hidden her pale skin and blood-red eyes behind the regal image of the high-classed Noxian Reiné Vauclain, one who always sported the latest of fashionable dresses. She wore one now – a black, backless, halter neck dress displaying an uneven cut at her calves. Every few decades or so, she would masquerade as a different person, but she would always unabashedly choose a noble’s life to take. Long, brunette hair framed her tanned face as she strode through the bustling market upon the wide streets of Mortoraa, hazel eyes watching for loose cobblestones.

The large stall had been first to catch her eye, especially with the array of citizens idling around dressed in extravagant garments and dazzling jewelry. However, the barking and rattling of cages competed for her attention, and Elise found herself kneeled in front of a pitch-black beast the size of a large wolf. The scaled animal recoiled as soon as she neared, growling cautiously as it paced at the back of its enclosure, claws scraping against the smoothed floor. The corner of Elise’s mouth twitched in amusement. Animals always knew she wasn’t quite what she seemed.

The drakehound’s fin-like ears suddenly perked, and its tail whipped back and forth as Elise heard approaching footsteps. “Madame! Searching for a loyal companion?”

Elise fixed a false smile on her face as she stood up straight to regard the young man who had spoken. “Simply browsing,” she replied, “I will call for you if I wish to make a purchase.”

Her tone was almost haughty, fit for a noblewoman familiar with ordering servants about the house. The Noxian bowed respectfully before scurrying away.

“I hear that they say you aren’t a true resident of Mortoraa unless you have a drakehound to call your own!”

The statement was clearly made to irk her, and Elise rolled her eyes, waiting until the man was next to her before retorting quietly, “I’m afraid I’m ahead of the times. Who needs a drakehound when you have a chimera?”

He combed well-manicured fingers through his light blond hair as he laughed cheerfully, “Ha! Chimeras aren’t real.”

The two shared secretive smirks before he raised an arm for Elise to take. “Walk with me, my lady,” he bowed dramatically, blue eyes flickering red for but a brief second.

Elise took it without much complaint, allowing him to lead her away from yellow feline orbs peering through metal bars. Perhaps many within the Black Rose would have found it hard to decipher, but Elise knew the mannerism well enough to recognize Vladimir. He had swapped out his usual outfit in favor of a plain white button-up with a sleeveless blue vest. Dark pants hugged his legs, and Elise remembered a time in which they would have been that much more scandalous.

Head held high, the disguised Vladimir moved with an easy swagger, grinning at some women and waving at others, the onyx ring on his right hand sparkling briefly in the noonday sun. “Must you behave so _pretentiously_?” Elise asked out of the corner of her mouth.

“Don’t be jealous. It ruins the mood,” he patted her arm patronizingly.

The two weaved easily between the masses of people, heading for the decorative and expensive restaurant known as _Taste of Valoran_. A tad misleading, Elise thought, if it only served Ionian and Shuriman. She turned her head to tell Vladimir so. “Well, let’s see, the high command would riot if they served Demacian, Freljord is what? Cold turkeys?” Elise snorted as the hemomancer continued, “Piltover has no style, and Bilgewater is...quite honestly every time I find myself there, the only thing they have in abundance is ale.”

“Fair points,” Elise conceded.

The gilded glass entrance was in view. A neatly dressed young boy bowed as they strode up and pulled the entryway open, waving them forward. The pair paid him no mind. The lobby was spacious. Furniture and decorations modeled after Ionia and Shurima dotted the area – enough to place a theme but not so much that the culture became stifling. Less unfortunate parties that did not have a reservation eagerly awaited their turn in the line of seats off to the side. A fiery-headed young woman leaned against the wall off to the entrance, clad in a pure white strapless dress with a slit cut dangerously high. She pushed off and sauntered closer to the pair, a salacious smirk on her red lips. Elise spotted her and cocked an eyebrow, crimson orbs flicking downward briefly for the eyeful of long legs. LeBlanc threw her arms around their shoulders in greeting, her face sandwiched between theirs, “Fancy seeing you two here. Shall we?”

“Good thing I asked for a private space. Elise’s heart rate just spiked,” Vladimir commented casually, slipping away towards the receptionist before the said woman could retaliate.

This left Elise inhaling deeply in an attempt to prevent her face from flushing. “I see you like the dress you picked out,” LeBlanc teased before tugging her after the hemomancer.

“It was well worth my time,” Elise muttered appreciatively.

“Reservation for Alexi Baranova,” Vladimir declared to a woman scribbling another group’s name onto a sheet of papyrus.

She looked up immediately, a pleasant smile plastered on her face, and then back down at the mess of ink. “Yes, a table for three. Right this way please.”

She led them to a large circular booth with a sliding door, bowing as she handed each of them a menu. Elise took her seat, tuning the woman out as she perused what they had in store. Ionia was popular for its choice of seafood and rice wine, while Shurima specialized in dishes marinated with pungent spices as well as a healthy variety of vegetarian entrees. She decided she was in a mood for meat of some sort, although there was rarely a time that she wasn’t. Living in Noxus encouraged that sort of habit.

LeBlanc leaned against Vladimir as she pointed out something on the menu. Elise took the chance to seize the alcohol list from the center of the table before anyone else could. An index finger painted in dark purple tapped the top of the sheet as she attempted to peruse it. “I special ordered your favorite,” the Deceiver informed her with a wink.

“Oh?” Elise tried to not sound too pleased.

She put the menu down. A waiter came with a polite knock, introducing himself as _someone_ before he presented a fine bottle with a decorative golden label. _Château Lafite_. A sample was poured for LeBlanc, who passed it to Elise instead. She inhaled the oaky aroma of the red wine before daring to take a sip. It was heavenly, with harmonious fruity layers of both sweet and bitter that ended in a savory aftertaste. The woman wanted to purr. She opened her eyes that she didn’t realize she had momentarily closed and nodded at the waiter in satisfaction. He asked for their orders after topping up each glass. Elise decided that since she was spoiling herself today, raw oysters were a delight she seldom had the pleasure of indulging.

She tilted the wine glass to her lips again, allowing the precious vintage to sit on her tongue before swallowing.

_Click._

_Click._

“Elise, please try your best not to orgasm _that_ quickly.”

Her attention switched mournfully from her drink to Vladimir. LeBlanc was giggling, with her mouth hidden politely behind her hand. “Private booth, if you recall,” Elise stated nose tilted upward, “Reap what you sow.”

Clearly, she was the only one who appreciated good wine nowadays.

Their entrees arrive post-haste, and Elise listened to Vladimir deliver the report regarding the high command fortress as she sprinkled lemon juice over her shellfish. “We may be able to derive a general locator spell from the traces left in the meeting room,” she interjected.

The hemomancer nodded in agreement, “Indeed. But some digging will still be in order.”

The subject shifted to more trivial topics, beginning with Vladimir commenting on the sudden interest in the Crimson Circle from a small young band of recent Black Rose recruits of street orphans. The hemomancer’s establishment was hidden under the guise of a private bar. Intoxication of those unwary was the easiest way to practice the art of hemomancy and to get away with _accidents_. Members of the Black Rose had access, but only with Vladimir’s prior approval.

Elise picked up a fat oyster with her small fork. “If a quick rush of power is what they want, I’m afraid they’ll be sorely disappointed,” the Crimson Reaper was saying, “They trifle with the circle and continue to do so even after I rejected their proposals.”

“To think a group of teenagers would be your ultimate downfall,” Elise drawled.

“Even Clara and Edvin have started pestering me about them! Emi, you may find yourself short some green mages in a few days’ time.”

LeBlanc shrugged as she finished a piece of asparagus, “They were warned at their commencement. If they do not have the tact to gain your approval nor the sense to understand when to cease, then there’s no question whether to keep them around.”

The bill was preposterously extravagant, but Elise thought it was absolutely worth it for the drink. In fact, she asked for a bottle to be delivered to her mansion before sunset. The trio found themselves upon the main street of Mortoraa once more, which led directly into lower Noxus and the Ivory Ward. A handsome, young gentleman with a gorgeous lady on each arm attracted more attention than not, so Vladimir dissolved once more into his theatrics as Elise placed a pair of sunglasses over her face. LeBlanc played along. She could be as dramatic as the hemomancer when she chose.

It began as a tickle at the back of her neck.

Elise felt the ripple of concern wash over the crowd before she heard it – an ear-piercing scream echoing down the street. Upon scanning the well-kept cobblestones, she spotted a circle of citizens gathering around an alleyway between two stores that displayed a variety of bright apparel to draw passerby attention. Sharing a glance with the other two, Elise led them to the scene. A loud gasp made several Noxians stumble backwards in surprise. She could hear a woman sobbing as the street guard arrived on the scene. Elise could barely see her, but as she shifted around, she managed to make out graying hair tied into a loose bun. A basket of multi-colored spools of thread lay upon the ground. Further back was what appeared to be a statue.

“One moment he was fine and then he-he….” she babbled, and Elise could barely make out her garbled words, “He turned to s-stone! He was turned to stone by a monster!” The last two sentences came out as a shriek so all the people nearby could hear.

_Cassiopeia._

Whispers and murmurs immediately filled the mass of citizens, and Elise felt the fear and panic rise once more.

“What type of monster could do this?”

“I heard of something like that once. I thought it was a story.”

“Doesn’t it just look at you? And you’re dead?”

“It was a snake! An enormous snake!” the old woman moaned, and more unintelligible words left her mouth.

LeBlanc’s telepathic sigh filtered in her mind, “ _There’s never a dull week, is there?_ ”

Elise’s crimson eyes narrowed suspiciously, as she tried to get a good look at the woman on the ground. She was no mage, as far as she could tell, but faint traces of magic were woven around her body and the alleyway. They disappeared abruptly. Whoever had cast the spell was proficient at obscuring their tracks.

More soldiers were approaching, and some of them had the symbol of the high command proudly stamped upon their arms. They would be searching for magical interference soon, and a trio of nobles swathed in illusionary magic was a prime target. Her train of thought crept into the minds of LeBlanc and Vladimir, and together, they backed away from the crowd.

Elise passed her hand against the brick wall of the clothing store, releasing a tiny spiderling that began to scuttle towards the roof. They were a block away before Elise stopped them in front of a pastry display. “Wait,” she murmured as she tapped into her spiderling’s senses.

She felt LeBlanc and Vladimir shift closer to her under the guise of admiring the baker’s designs.

She was perched upon a water pipe in the alleyway. The frozen victim had his back to her, his arms raised as if trying to block something during his last moments of life. How in the world would Cassiopeia be able to kill someone in this location without masses of people noticing? It was highly unlikely. The jacket he wore was embroidered with what could have been silver or gold, indicating that this man was not a random peasant on the streets. Elise cursed her spiderling’s terrible vision. She was unable to make out any more detail without getting closer.

A group of uniformed Noxians milled around the statue, seemingly at a loss of what to do. That is, until a rough-looking woman in her early forties stepped forward and began barking orders. “Why the hell are you all standing around? Get this mess cleaned up before it attracts even more people!”

There was a moment of awkward silence before a boy wearing an outfit that was too big for him piped up, “Ma’am, um, it’s a really solid statue. We’re not sure we can lift it without breaking-“

“Then grab a damn cart and get it out of here if you’re too much of a weakling to lift it yourself! Quit wasting my time!”

The boy was shocked into submission, and he nodded before scurrying away, presumably to look for the said cart. The woman scowled, shaking her head before making her way back towards the crowd. Sensing her time was short, Elise crawled down the grimy, slippery wall.

She skirted to the other side of the alleyway, careful to avoid the attention of the young enforcers. Most were still staring at the statue anyway. Elise was finally able to get a clear view, just as the young boy returned with a large wheelbarrow and a dirty white sheet. She gazed at the horror-stricken face, trying to figure out where she had last seen those features. The man was middle-aged, judging by the slight creases at the corner of his eyes, and had a rather prominent hooked nose.

She allowed the spiderling to be squashed underfoot, ending the spell.

“Allanon Irvine,” her lips barely moved as she whispered the name.

“Let us return tomorrow,” LeBlanc said loud enough for passersby to hear, “I would gladly buy a cake for mother’s birthday.”

A few minutes from the bakery was an antique store, whose bell rang cheerfully as the matron opened the door. The owner looked up, but only nodded briefly as they entered the backroom labeled “Storage”. Dusty boxes were indeed scattered about, but the center of the floor was left clear. “ _Ad astra per aspera_ ,” the Deceiver murmured.

The entryway to the Black Rose catacombs slid open.

“Was there a recent spat between Cassiopeia and the Irvines?” Vladimir inquired once they were alone again, “In fact, I don’t believe they have ever visited Urzeris.”

The Irvines were a stubborn pair who had been accepted into the Black Rose base on their prestigious, and therefore advantageous, position within Noxus. Allanon himself preferred the political spotlight while his sister dabbled in the dark magics. “This would be an utterly foolish thing to do on her part, regardless,” Elise countered, squinting at him in the dim manafire, “You saw the traces of magic around the woman? Perhaps she saw an illusion. How would Cassiopeia even reach that area?”

“Indeed. I am skeptical of her involvement,” LeBlanc waved away her illusion as the others did the same, “Arabelle will create quite the riot when she catches wind of what’s happened to her brother. The news will reach her fairly quickly. I must contact her immediately if we are to mitigate any damage she can potentially cause.”

Cassiopeia’s existence wasn’t quite common knowledge in the Black Rose headquarters of Noxus, but her presence did make its way through the order by rumor. A noble calling for her head would lead to messy consequences. “I’ll pay that snake a visit. She may have neglected to mention angering a friend of hers,” Elise sighed.

“Go.”

The arachnid mage dissipated into a plume of smoke, shooting past the other two and towards Du Couteau manor. It didn’t take her more than a minute to exit the tunnels. She entered the mansion much as she did previously, though she chose to teleport into the hallway rather than the serpent’s bedroom. The carpet was lush and thick, and Elise carefully picked her way over the forest of fibers in her small black widow form. The feeling of sliding vibrations tickled the hairs on her spider legs. Cassiopeia had not fled. Yet. The arachnid skirted under the door, intending to do some snooping before making her presence known.

She was wholly unprepared for the spray of poison hurtled her way, the overwhelming bitterness splashing over her carapace as Elise reared in surprise. Instinct drove her back the way she had come, pedipalps desperately brushing the disgusting smell off her chelicerae. She had barely managed a few inches before she felt her legs give, her increasingly sluggish mind no longer able to command their movements correctly.

“Elise, Elise,” Cassiopeia’s honey-sweet voice floated overhead, “you must _really_ be more careful. Some snakes prefer to eat spiders.”

The black widow collapsed on her side, the panic she tried desperately to hold onto ebbing as her consciousness faded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! I am eager for feedback. =u=


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cassiopeia gets a new pet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OnionsAreDisgusting is a sweet potato.

It was the oddest sensation, waking in her spider form. Her regular technique of taking deep breaths and keeping her eyes closed until she was sure of her surroundings did not apply. She had no lungs with which to inhale and no eyelids for blinking. Images came to her without her consent. They were blurry.

Sleepiness was all her brain seemed to be able to comprehend. Elise lay there, attempting to remember what had happened. Something was moving in front of her, but she couldn’t tell what. Perhaps if she stared long enough, it would come to her.

“Wakey, wakey, little spider.”

The familiarity of the voice made her legs twitch as she tried to wriggle into an upright position. A ringing sound originating just centimeters from her head caused Elise to jerk, the last vestiges of her unconsciousness falling away. Cassiopeia had just flicked the glass. Cassiopeia had knocked her out. Cassiopeia had placed her in a jar.

_A jar._

The nerve.

The black widow reared back instinctively, legs raised and fangs curled in a threat display. “Aren’t you adorable,” Cassiopeia cooed, “You’d make a good addition to my collection.”

Elise would have screeched if she didn’t know it would only please the snake even further. _She was not a pet_. Instead, she put her legs down, transforming into an even larger spider.

At least, she _tried_. There was a low humming sound when she did.

Cassiopeia chuckled, “I’m afraid your little tricks won’t work while in there.”

She tapped the glass again, making Elise twitch. Symbols were etched into the material, stifling any sort of magic before it could properly form. The spider curled up against the section of transparent wall furthest from the serpent, wishing that her multi-eyed glower was more effective.

“No comment?” Her captor moved closer, resting her chin on her forearm as she peered at Elise, “Come now, I’m told you can communicate when you’re transformed.”

The black widow was stubbornly silent. Now that they were face to face, she could see that the green at the corners of her eyes was, in fact, not makeup, but _small scales_.

The serpent grabbed the jar and spun it.

Elise’s grip upon the slippery glass surface was tenuous at best, and she immediately began to tumble around, unable to control her momentum as her world became a dizzying blur. She was on her back when Cassiopeia stopped, legs twitching at air. The serpent was cackling.

_Elise vowed to kill this woman once she got out._

She had barely managed to right herself when there was a popping sound overhead. Cassiopeia wore those golden talons of hers and had poked a small hole in the center of the jar lid. Elise scrabbled to the side, her back legs clawing fruitlessly at the smooth wall. “I see you’re stubborn, but hopefully not _stupid_.”

Something dripped into the jar from Cassiopeia’s clawed finger. It was a light purple color and didn’t react to the glass, but it _bubbled_. Elise clenched her abdomen, making a loud hissing sound. Loud to her, at least. She could _feel_ Cassiopeia’s smirk. More of the strange poison fell in. It smelled sickly sweet.

“ _You’re dead as well if you kill me,”_ Elise snarled telepathically as the puddle grew larger.

Cassiopeia pulled her hand away, a triumphant smile on that _infuriating, pompous_ face of hers. “Good girl,” she purred, “Now, my contacts have brought me some rather interesting news. Tell me what you had to do with the incident at the market just this early afternoon. Surely, your timing is not a coincidence.”

Elise pulled her legs as close to her body as possible, away from the suspicious liquid gathered in the center of the jar, “ _You don’t seem particularly concerned for someone whose head might soon end up on a pike_.”

The serpent shrugged nonchalantly, “I’ve learned to cover my bases over the years. Many people want me out of the picture. Shall I include the Black Rose on my list as well?”

“ _Let me out of here first. I’m not a toy._ ”

Cassiopeia released a short laugh. “Could have fooled me,” she bent to peer at the spider again, “Answer my questions and _maybe_ I’ll let you out.”

Elise regarded her cat-like pupils cautiously. The serpent had the chance to murder her but never took it. Was she planning to hold her hostage as a bargaining chip? Unlikely. As long as this situation wasn’t another of LeBlanc’s schemes, that is. _“I was passing by when it occured. Whoever attempted to set you up did an extremely sloppy job_ ,” the black widow finally said.

The snake tilted her head, “That is something we can agree upon.”

_“It wouldn’t fool anyone who’s met you.”_

Cassiopeia’s emerald gaze sharpened. “But for those who haven’t?”

They stared at each other, the gears in their minds turning. The black widow interrupted the silence. “ _Free me. The matron will wonder about my absence.”_

It wasn’t exactly a lie. LeBlanc would want her to report back at some point. Cassiopeia reached for the jar and began carelessly prying the lid off. The action caused the poison to run towards Elise, who hissed and spat and screeched and lord knew what else as it touched her. Sighing, Cassiopeia stopped what she was doing, “Relax. It’s grape soda. You _do_ know what that is, don’t you?”

Elise brushed her pedipalps off angrily, wanting to scream. It may have seemed like a palatable flavor to a regular human, but all her spider senses could taste were chemicals and sugar now that she was bathed in the substance. Still, she felt like a fool.

As the serpent set the jar on its side, the black widow crawled out with as much dignity as a spider could muster. She leaped onto the floor, dark magic swirling around her as her arachnid form melted away. The pair regarded each other for a tense moment. Cassiopeia had a cruel grin plastered upon her face. Elise glared, feeling almost petty enough to fling webbing at the snake. Almost. “Do something like that again, and I’ll teleport you into the middle of the marketplace.”

“Oh, come now,” the serpent complained, revealing the canned drink she had been hiding behind her back and placing it upon the table, “would you rather I actually poison you? _Someone_ needs to teach you to knock.”

“I don’t announce my presence to people I don’t trust.”

Cassiopeia gave her a wry look. “You’re not the type to ever announce your presence. You force it upon others.”

“Then can you blame me for sneaking in?” Elise raised an eyebrow.

“As much as you can blame me for putting you in a jar,” came the serpent’s arrogant tone.

The arachnid mage took a deep breath to calm her annoyance. She drew a spell in the air, placing her hand through the circle she formed. The charm clung to her, and she held her palm out to the snake, who eyed it with some curiosity. “A truth circle? I’m hurt the matron thinks so lowly of me,” Cassiopeia commented as she slithered around the woman, her coils pressing so close that an accidental twitch of Elise’s fingers would result in her brushing scales.

“Precaution.”

Cassiopeia begrudgingly reached for her extended arm. Her claws wrapped carefully around the pale skin of Elise’s wrist, mindful of their sharpness. Truth circles didn’t force people to talk, but it did prevent them from saying anything but facts. Crimson red met garnet. “Where were you at one in the afternoon today?” Elise asked.

“The living room of this manor. I don’t quite have the privilege of going out for a midday stroll.” This woman and her fucking _sass_.

“Did you have any part to play in the murder of Allanon Irvine?”

“Not unless you count me being framed,” the serpent’s tongue flicked out briefly.

Satisfied, Elise began to pull away, but Cassiopeia’s grip suddenly tightened, pulling her closer and prolonging the spell. They were practically nose to nose, though the snake’s expression was serious. “What do _you_ know about the murder?” the serpent hissed quietly.

“His life was taken in an alleyway in Mortorra. He was facing the street. The matron and Crimson Reaper were with me when we happened upon the scene,” Elise found herself saying.

“Who do you suspect?”

The spider paused in thought, “Someone who does not have the power to directly dispose of you.”

“Will you knock the next time you visit?” the thin line of Cassiopeia’s lips tilted upwards slightly.

“Of _course_ _not_.”

The serpent let go, though they remained in each other’s space playing another game of dare. Elise wriggled her fingers, drumming them against Cassiopeia’s scales. The serpent’s brilliant eyes flared, making the arachnid mage chuckle. “Careful,” the snake whispered, “you might find yourself an unfortunate victim of my poison.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Cassiopeia held her gaze for another beat before she moved past Elise, slithering towards her vanity mirror. Her coils remained around the arachnid mage, forcing her to wait in place. The sending stone Elise had given her dangled in her face. “This little thing is more than just for verbal conversation, isn’t it?”

Elise kept her expression neutral. The stone could also be used for scrying and recording, but the protective wards around Du Couteau manor prevented her from using that function while elsewhere. Cassiopeia’s claws scratched at the side of the sending stone, distorting the illusion spell and revealing a small crystal lens. “I didn’t use-“ Elise began.

“No, but I did.”

A talon traced one of the runes below the crystal. An image of Cassiopeia’s chambers whirled into view, angled such that neither the window nor her door could be seen. It played the last few seconds of the recording, showing the snake glancing up from her papers and spitting poison across the room at a tiny spider upon the carpet.

The arachnid mage blinked. So Cassiopeia had been recording herself since the night before. The authenticity of the recording would be difficult to dispute since the scrying spell had the Spider Queen’s magic signature all over it. It gave the serpent an airtight alibi. Cassiopeia was well aware someone wanted her gone. It explained Katarina’s dismissive gestures the day before.

“I have another proposition for you,” Cassiopeia stated, “though I’m afraid this one takes precedence over our previous agreement.”

Elise crossed her arms, “What else do you have to offer that could possibly interest me?”

The serpent’s smile was sly, “What do you wish for most, Elise?”

The other scoffed at the question, “What makes you think I don’t have everything I want?”

Cassiopeia’s smirk widened, “Oh really? You know, the giant spiders that lived in what was once the Blessed Isles,” she shifted back to stretch herself upon her gargantuan mattress, dragging a portion of her massive body with her and finally giving Elise some room to maneuver, “were beings of ancient power who dwelled close to the Waters of Life. The humans who settled there viewed them as part of the mystery of the boundless magic to be found within the islands. A shame their works never amounted to much before the Ruination struck,” she waved a hand dismissively, “but I suppose you already knew that.”

The arachnid mage stared at her with renewed interest. “How do _you_ know that?”

The history of the Shadow Isles was a mystery to all but a select few. The corruption of the Black Mist had existed for so long that many simply accepted it as a part of ever-existing nature – just as how the sun and moon rose and fell with night and day. The serpent rested her elbow upon the bed, propping her head in her palm. She shot Elise an imperious grin, “My transformation may have been unexpected, but in many ways, it has been _enlightening_. I trust I have your attention?”

“Go on,” Elise responded slowly.

“Ancient Shurima’s influence spread far and wide. The Blessed Isles were not immune. The mist protected its inhabitants well, but it spread its arms for the pure of mind who sought knowledge. There is one who made note that the powers in the Waters of Life were much reminiscent of the Oasis of the Dawn. It is written that the magic of those waters contained the secret to _eternal life_. Of course, both those places have long dried up,” Cassiopeia’s tongue flickered out at the last consonant to taste the other’s reaction.

Elise admitted the naga had her curiosity piqued, though her knowledge of her personal details was rather unnerving. Cassiopeia seemed to sense the question in her mind and spoke up again, “Accept my proposal, and you will have your answers in due time.”

Crimson eyes narrowed to slits. “Many have fruitlessly chased down countless leads. What substance does yours have?”

Cassiopeia curled her free hand at Elise, making a come hither motion. A few seconds passed before the spider took a few hesitant steps towards her. “A journal detailing experiments upon those waters searching for the very thing. They are missing one crucial detail. One that I believe you can provide.”

Elise eyed her sharp features, searching for a hint of dishonesty upon her face. The snake opened her mouth, fangs springing forward. She bit down lightly upon her lip and a bead of red liquid welled to the surface. She reached for Elise’s hand, and kissed the onyx ring, bowing her head. The blood magic hummed to life, urging Elise to seal her portion of the deal. “Your arrogance could be your downfall,” she commented.

“You would never refuse this chance,” Cassiopeia answered confidently, returning to eye level.

“What do you want?”

“I’m being harried by multiple thorns in my side. This badly enacted framing is only the most recent. Find the root of the cause and dispose of them.”

Elise was confused. “Is that all?”

“You will find it more difficult than you presume. I’ve had visitors since I departed from Urzeris. And I suppose keeping me alive and well is a given if you want what you seek,” Cassiopeia’s hand was upon Elise’s, stopping her from cutting her finger open, “Allow me. Some preparation is in order,” her voice lowered to a purr.

A flick of the snake’s wrist sliced Elise’s cheek open, blood gushing from the wound. “Hey!” the arachnid mage scowled.

Her spider legs instinctively curled around Cassiopeia, their points threatening to pierce cleanly through her back. She was daring. No one else would even _think_ of marring Elise’s face. The serpent merely raised an eyebrow, “Let it be known to the Black Rose that I was unwilling to cooperate. That I attacked you upon sight and accused you of framing me.”

“Which you absolutely did, yes,” Elise replied with a glare.

Cassiopeia didn’t rise to the bait. “My pursuers are growing increasingly desperate. The matron will offer me protection. Allow three days to pass so that they will believe I cannot prove my innocence. Then, release the evidence you gathered here today,” the snake’s lips lilted upwards.

Cassiopeia’s guile could give LeBlanc a run for her money. Elise nodded as she understood. “And whoever is responsible will panic and strike again.”

Those who could taste victory only reacted that much more violently when it was abruptly pulled from their grasp. Elise’s cheek stung lightly as the serpent pressed her ring to the wound. “Yes, and my people will be watching. Now let’s make some noise, shall we?”

Elise teleported out of her grasp before she finished her sentence. She launched her webbing at the serpent, covering her in the sticky substance. Cassiopeia looked positively vexed as she attempted to flick it out of her hair, “I said noise, not a mess.”

The spider laughed, “Serves you right for placing me in a jar.”

An irritated hiss was the only warning she received before a mass of coils collided into her frame, shoving her against the wall with a force that shook the entire room. Elise felt the imprint of Cassiopeia’s scales as they compressed her windpipe. Surely, that would leave a bruise. Elise wriggled, silk whipping from her arachnid appendages to wind repeatedly around the serpent as the snake increased her pressure. Then, she shed her human form.

Cassiopeia’s coils collapsed upon nothingness as her prey all but disappeared, and she whirled around to search for the black widow who skittered under the bed. Elise spawned a spiderling in the darkness. It sat there, motionless. Unfortunately, the webbing over Cassiopeia’s body rendered her immobile, preventing her from straightening her tail. Elise emerged on the other side, cackling with amusement as she shifted back.

The door burst open, revealing a flash of crimson hair. ”Cass!”

Katarina made to step into the room but quickly placed her foot back down upon the threshold, peering in and immediately spotting Elise. The arachnid mage snapped her fingers, and her webbing began to drop off from the serpent. A blade whirled dangerously close to her nose, impaling itself into the wall. Elise blinked, a leer directed suggestively towards the older Du Couteau sister, “You two are a feisty pair, aren’t you?”

“Who the-“ the assassin began.

“Sister,” Cassiopeia finished dragging the rest of the silk off her body. Her brow furrowed in genuine annoyance, “would you so kindly escort our _guest_ ,” her voice dropped to a low hiss at the last word, “off our premises? She has overstayed her welcome.”

Katarina’s attention snapped to Cassiopeia, shooting her a look. Elise interpreted it as a silent message that the sisters were to have a very long discussion afterward. She raised her arms in mock surrender and began to back out of the room. “No need to be so angry, Cassiopeia. After all, you can’t help that you’ve become a _monster_.”

The look the serpent shot her was absolutely murderous, more so than any acting could ever produce. Elise had hit a sore spot. Fascinating. She looked away before Cassiopeia could decide to petrify her, plan be damned. Something hard dug into her spine at the small of her back, and Elise suppressed a wince as Katarina dragged her into the hallway. Another person had materialized next to the redhead, though their face was hidden in the shadow of their hood. Talon, Elise presumed. A blade appeared at her throat. “Kat…” she heard Cassiopeia warn.

The assassin gave a huff of frustration and shoved Elise forward, flipping her dagger so that its pointed edge pressed into the skin between her shoulder blades. She forced her down the stairs, Talon in tow. Elise wore an entitled grin the whole time. As soon as they entered the foyer, Katarina spun the mage to face her, positioning the blade over her heart. “Cassiopeia may be willing to let you live, but I have no qualm over killing you if I see you again.”

Elise released a bark of laughter, “Careful what you wish for. You may awaken without a pair of eyes tomorrow.”

Katarina was displaying an incredible amount of self-restraint given her character, though the spider could see the fury in her white-knuckled grip. Talon took a step forward. “You’ve been warned,” the redhead snarled and practically threw Elise out of the mansion.

She stumbled a few steps, turning back to wave haughtily even as the door slammed in her face. Unfazed, she wove an illusion of a common Noxian citizen as she made her way leisurely out the gate. That was more amusing than she expected. Elise muttered a teleportation spell under her breath as she started down the path, though a prickling on the back of her neck made her stop. Keeping her head forward, she turned the corner, onto a street with significantly more pedestrians. If she was going to be followed, she might as well check on the sisters.

The spiderling was still under Cassiopeia’s bed, and Elise tuned in just in time to hear the door slam open once again. The serpent still sounded annoyed, although her tone was laced with infinitely less venom, “Is knocking a dead courtesy in Noxus nowadays?”

“Who the hell was that, Cass?”

Katarina had still not stepped into the room. Elise could see one of her boots impatiently tapping the carpet of the hallway. “A contact. She’s helping me look for Father.”

“By trying to kill you? What _is_ she? She looks like another assassin!”

Oh. _Another_. “I told you. Stay out of my business, and I won’t stick my nose in yours,” Cassiopeia insisted.

“You are my business while you live here!” Katarina’s voice rose.

Her declaration was followed by the naga’s dry laugh. “Don’t attempt to sound like Father, dear sister. His stringency never suited you.”

Elise didn’t need to look to imagine the ugly scowl fitted across the assassin’s face, “Stop being so difficult.”

“I’m not,” Cassiopeia responded petulantly.

“You never liked him. You always took after Mother.”

Elise pushed through a small crowd of Noxians. An angry hiss filled Cassiopeia’s chambers. “He gave the order to have you _killed_. You returned home with a bandage over your face and my first thought was that you had lost an eye. Even Talon looked horrified.”

“I don’t need you to remind me that I failed.”

“I don’t need to remind _you_ that your own father would so carelessly throw away your life! Why must you defend him?!”

Katarina paced at the threshold of the room. “I hated him for that.”

“Then _why_?”

There was a heartbeat or two of quiet. “He was the one who taught me how to survive. Who gave me a purpose. Who kept our family together,” the redhead said so softly that Elise could barely hear her.

Cassiopeia was still frustrated. “The only thing he ever did was-“

“Look what happened as soon as we split!” Katarina’s interruption was a far cry from her tone mere seconds before, and the echo of her voice was soon stifled by complete silence.

Elise suppressed a smile. Oh, _my_. “Get out.” Cassiopeia’s tone was deceptively neutral.

“I didn’t mean-“ the assassin tried.

“GET OUT!”

Elise barely managed to refrain from snickering aloud and drawing attention to herself. Moments later, the door shut with a soft click. Elise allowed her spiderling to fade into oblivion before Cassiopeia could realize she was being spied upon. The mage internally chuckled with glee. The serpent was full of self-contained rage, frustration, and fury built on the foundation of both helplessness and ambition. A weapon waiting to be pointed at whatever the Black Rose wanted. Perhaps Elise would have the privilege of aiming it herself. It would be well worth the time spent stomaching her presence.

In the meantime, she had to get rid of this little _rat_ tailing her like a puppy. She stalked into an alleyway, scaling up the brick wall with her magic as soon as she was enshrouded in darkness. The intruder, as expected, was lurking on the rooftops, and she tracked his vibrations as he concealed himself behind a chimney before she peeked over the ledge. Elise rolled her eyes and stepped around to his hiding spot. “If you’d like an autograph, you could simply ask,” she eyed Talon with a dispassionate look.

He was emotionless, although it was difficult to tell due to the shadow over his face. He carried an unsheathed serrated wrist blade on his right arm. Elise didn’t receive a response, so she continued talking, “Talon, no? The street urchin General Du Couteau picked up?”

No comment, yet again. Well, assassins were never much for silver tongues. Elise thought back to the conversation between the Du Couteau sisters. “You know, you and Katarina are so protective of your little Cassiopeia, and even more so after her _accident_. But allow me to let you in on a little secret, dear. I’m not anyone you should be worrying about. The greatest threat to Cassiopeia is _herself_.”

Talon, as expected, still did not speak, though his blade did lower slightly. Satisfied, Elise stepped off the roof. He did not follow.

* * *

Arabelle Irvine had her fists clenched when Elise burst into LeBlanc’s study with such flair that Vladimir would have been proud. She made a show of wincing as she closed the door, her illusion falling away. Both the matron and hemomancer watched her with equal expressions of interest and surprise.

“Dearest Cassiopeia was certainly not happy of being accused,” she complained as she made her way over to the desk, ensuring that Arabelle had a good view of the cut on her cheek and the bruise around her neck, “though she is entirely unable to prove her presence within the mansion this early afternoon. Suspicious, yes? I spent the better part of the hour convincing her that she is safe until there is direct evidence of her involvement, so I suppose she’ll stay put for now.”

Arabelle’s raven hair whipped back to LeBlanc as Elise finished, “If that is not enough for you to take action, then I don’t know what is. That monster is uncontrollable and has little regard for your rules. I will-“

“Now, now, Arabelle,” the arachnid mage stood beside LeBlanc, regarding the Irvine sister with a placating look, “We mustn’t be hasty. If you raise hell, it will only chase Cassiopeia off, and you will not get the justice you wish for. Keep quiet for now, won’t you? We’ll spring a trap once we are ready.”

LeBlanc nodded beside her, though Elise could tell the action was stiff. “I will not overlook this transgression, but we must proceed with caution. I cannot keep word of this crime from spreading, but you have the power to prevent chaos from breaking out. Placing the spotlight on yourself would only put you in danger.”

Arabelle’s jaw worked, but she bowed tightly, “As you wish, matron. I await further news.”

Elise waited until the door closed before turning to LeBlanc. She was immediately hit with an arcane counterspell as LeBlanc checked her for signs of magic interference. There was no perceivable effect other than some slight tingling on her skin. “Yes, hello to you as well,” the arachnid mage said plainly as she waved the charm away.

“What was _that_ about?” the LeBlanc asked, a dangerous note in her voice. Amber eyes were bright with suspicion.

Elise was not one to be intimidated, especially when it was her _face_ that had been marred. “Don’t look so dour, Emi,” she scooted closer, “In fact, I should be the one who’s upset. Look what the snake did to me. You don’t happen to have a healing potion nearby, do you?”

She faced the matron with something akin to a pout. As much as it was unsavory for the arachnid mage to admit, rejuvenating magic was a field that she had found incredibly difficult to delve into. Necrotic magic – death, destruction, vampiric forces – were where she dealt best. As it stood, the most she could do was stop bleeding. It frustrated her to no end. Her enhanced healing capabilities did little to quell her annoyance, even if it did render superficial injuries invisible within hours.

Irritated, LeBlanc slapped her hand over the bruise none too gently, and a minor healing spell began to flow from her palm. Amber held crimson in expectation. “Cassiopeia has plans to draw the one responsible out,” Elise began, after wincing from the initial pain, “She has a scry recording of her whereabouts, and I used a truth circle, so there is ample proof that she was not present in the alley.”

“As expected,” the matron uttered.

“She requested that her evidence not leave this room. Instead, we’ll tell Arabelle in three day’s time.”

“To make her little fan think she’s in hot water,” Vladimir rubbed his chin from where he sat upon the couch and grinned, “and then bait them into striking out again. How devious.”

“Do you believe Cassiopeia is the true target?” LeBlanc’s eyes narrowed at the slice on Elise’s cheek as she reached up.

“She’s been harassed multiple times. A recent development since she left Urzeris,” the spider answered.

“She is, admittedly, a weak point. Many in our order know only of her presence and nothing more,” the matron mused, “But this means one of her contacts may be a mole.”

“You believe a random Shuriman noble is after her? This could also be Swain’s doing,” Elise suggested.

“Swain repeating the same tactic is incredibly dull,” the hemomancer complained, as he leaned upon the armrest of the sofa.

LeBlanc scoffed, “He’s testing my patience.”

Silence overcame them as the wound on Elise’s face vanished. It was broken by Vladimir’s mischievous tone, “Did you and Cassiopeia have fun at the very least?” he gestured to her neck.

Elise eyed him dangerously. “Hilarious.”

“If you’re into asphyxiation, I have a collar that-Urgh!”

In the blink of an eye, Elise had surged from her position at the matron’s side, impaling him straight through the chest with one of her spider legs. She raised him into the air before quickly retracting the appendage, dropping him to the ground. Vladimir landed with a loud thump, groaning as blood spilled from his mouth. The taste of iron filled her senses. The arachnid mage put her hand to her ear, “I’m sorry, what was that?” She heard a sigh escape somewhere behind her.

He tossed her a murderous glare before his eyes began to glow a deep crimson. Elise’s cheek injury tore back open, and she cringed, pressing a hand to it, “You bastard…”

The gaping hole in Vladimir’s chest reknit itself, bone and muscle reforming as blood was pulled back within the tissue. Soon, there was nothing but smooth, unblemished skin. “You could have simply said no, Elise. No need to demolish my outfit!” he frowned in dismay at the puncture in his dress shirt.

She looked down at him with no remorse, “Roll with it. It’s a new fashion. Get rid of this cut.”

“I think you should keep it unless you can heal yourself,” he taunted.

Elise manifested the petricite pouch in her hand and shook it lightly at Vladimir, “I suppose I’m keeping what I’ve learned about this to myself, then.”

The hemomancer pursed his lips, unamused. They entered a glaring contest for a few beats. “Fine,” he said at last. He snapped his fingers, and her skin was perfect once more. Vladimir folded his arms, “Well?”

The spider broke out in a laugh, “Cassiopeia proposed to delay our meeting, considering we have more pressing matters at hand.”

Vladimir released an irritated sigh at having been fooled, “How unlike you to be so compliant.”

“She offered me adequate payment, of course. You think I’d do so out of the goodness of my heart?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good.”

Elise exhaled and plopped down upon the couch. LeBlanc, as she always did when things between the other two got messy, studiously ignored them, flipping through a stack of papyrus with her magic and signing occasionally with a feathered pen.

“I suppose I better get going then,” Vladimir announced, “According to Arabelle, Allanon was last seen at the Crimson Circle, and I need a new change of clothes,” he looked pointedly at Elise, who shrugged innocently.

The hemomancer was almost to the door when the matron cleared her throat.

“There’s still blood on my carpet.”

* * *

People were like individual chess pieces. Predictable in the patterns they moved. Stagnant within their daily routines. All Elise had to do was pick them up and nudge them in the right direction, and they’d go tumbling into their designated spot on the board. But it was difficult with Emilia LeBlanc. Each word passing over her silver tongue, the quirk of her pale lips, glint in her amber eyes – all were pieces of the game. There was no place on the chessboard for her. She was a player. And praise be to those who could go toe to toe against her. The list was abysmally short. Elise herself, Vladimir, and _Swain_.

The woman before her analyzed the board, sharp eyes taking in each pawn that was well on its way to ensnare her in a deadly trap. It was a generic method, but sometimes the most common of strategies tended to be what people would overlook the most.

“Bishop to F3,” Elise’s ruby lips turned upward into a smirk, “Checkmate.”

The dark chess piece slid across the board, crashing into the ivory queen, smashing it to smithereens. The bits remaining picked themselves up and were deposited to the side as LeBlanc took a sip of her morning tea, contemplating her next move, “King to D4.”

The most valuable white piece slid over one slot, to the corner of the board. Elise’s response was quick, already knowing the inevitable result, “Queen to D6. Checkmate again.”

LeBlanc stared accusingly at the bishop and queen pincering her king and, after a moment of silence, knocked over the precious chess piece herself. She hummed with discontent. Elise didn’t let the quiet pervade for very long before she leaned back and looked her straight in the eye, “You’re distracted.”

“So it would seem,” came the nonchalant reply.

The spider snapped her fingers twice at the board, and all the pieces repaired themselves and returned to their original positions. “Swain is getting to you.”

LeBlanc exhaled at the accusation, “A change of patterns in your enemy often foreshadows disaster.”

“What, the extremely _underhanded obvious_ tactics?”

“It is so unlike him.”

“Vladimir and I were betting upon which of you would cease playing around first. And when,” Elise grinned at her, one of her fangs protruding playfully from her mouth.

LeBlanc scoffed, “You know it’s not so simple as to just dispose of him.”

“Truly?” the spider was skeptical.

The matron fixed her with a piercing glare, though Elise was one of the few who would never cower. “You think my judgments clouded by history, Elise?”

The spider didn’t break eye contact. “Yes.”

LeBlanc returned to her tea after that. Her frustration was palpable, though there was nary a tick in her expression. Elise finished the rest of her Chardonnay. “I spotted Arabelle exiting your office earlier,” she made an effort to change the topic.

The matron took her time before answering. “She is impatient. Blinded by her brother’s death. Enough to be severely tempted to disrespect my wishes. Her fear of my wrath can only last so long before irrationality rears its ugly head.”

“One of the most efficacious remedies that a prince can have against conspiracies is not to be hated and despised by the people,” Elise quoted with a straight face as she set her glass down.

Amber eyes flicked to her crimson ones in exasperation, “Cheeky today, aren’t you?”

The spider winked mischievously, “I don’t believe Arabelle dares.”

LeBlanc stood to dispose of the dregs within her teacup. “I’m off to attempt a locator spell on the curse. Vladimir will need me later today if we are to cover the entirety of the Crimson Circle in signature tracking charms.”

“Your precautions are like sirens,” Elise told her.

“Allow him to think we are panicking. There will be a misstep sooner or later.”

* * *

Outside of whatever traitorous intent he had, Teleneus was an utterly boring man. He took his coffee with too much sugar in the mornings, drank cheap brandy barely worth a _silver_ in the afternoons, and had a whore in his bed at night. Elise was grateful for the _Château Lafite_ sitting upon her coffee table. Though the liquid level was growing dangerously low, much to her annoyance.

Today, the pattern changed. Teleneus took lunch much earlier than usual. There was a knock at the door. Elise had directed her tiny spider to the ceiling, where it could view Teleneus’s activities without fear of being flattened by sudden movements. A man she didn’t recognize was ushered in. He wore an illusion that flickered and dissipated after the door closed. A spy, Elise assumed as she watched his dark red hair morph to dirty blonde. “Any news?” Teleneus wrung his hands together with eagerness.

His emissary bowed. “Yes.”

“Wonderful. What of-“

Teleneus was cut short as the man pressed two fingers to his forehead, forming what seemed to be a brief mental connection. Elise inwardly cursed at her inability to eavesdrop. Teleneus’s arms stilled and he stood ramrod straight, nodding. “Good.”

He turned around, striding into the living room. The spiderling hurried to follow him from above. Producing a slip of paper from a hidden compartment by the fireplace, Teleneus handed it to the spy. “Ensure this reaches Swain’s hands.”

 _Swain_.

Elise shook her head in disbelief and leaned forward instinctively, briefly wondering if she had heard him correctly. She waited for the blood magic from his bond with the matron of the Black Rose to burn him to cinders, but there was no response from the onyx ring Teleneus carried.

_What. How?_

The spy bowed, and after some quick debate, Elise commanded her spiderling to drop into his shirt. He left quickly, and she peeked from his collar just in time to see a teleportation spell warp her vision. They reappeared in a wide, dark hallway. It was dimly lit by fire, but she could see the smooth obsidian that made up the walls, so shiny that one could see their own reflection.

Elise disconnected from her spider as soon as she saw Draven in the faux mirror.

She had to find LeBlanc.

* * *

With incredibly few exceptions, all who had sworn themselves to the Black Rose and its matron were required to form a blood bond with LeBlanc to ensure their loyalty and honesty. Elise recounted the rules in her head as she stepped into the Crimson Circle bar.

_You shall not plot against the matron or the order as a whole._

_You shall not commit unsanctioned activities in the name of the Black Rose._

_You shall not lie or commit falsifications in the matron’s name._

_You shall report all attempted coercions that contain the potential of disrupting the order._

Where was the loophole? The heavy scent of whiskey stung her nose. Wealthy patrons lounged about the expansive couches and rugs, gossiping over rumors and affairs. She paid them no mind. She carefully slid into the back room a short distance down the hallway, finding a loose brick in the corner. The rune glowed as Elise pulled it out, and she was transported into the lobby of the true Crimson Circle, the exclusive order of hemomancy. As was the theme, the majority of the room was painted some shade of red – scarlet, carmine, ruby, cerise – only interrupted on occasion by golden hues in the embroidery upon the furniture, the polished glint of metal from the lamps, and the archaic paintings upon the walls.

Her randomly chosen illusion of a Noxian noble fell away.

“Lady Elise!”

A young woman with her raven black hair cropped short in a rather roguish fashion had leaped up from one of the oversized cushions and began making her way towards Elise. She wore a shy smile upon her face. “Clara,” Elise purred as she neared, “Took my advice, I see,” she reached out to run the pad of her thumb over a crimson jewel embedded within a diamond-shaped pendant that hung from a leather collar.

Elise had taken her to bed once. Her and her snowy-haired girlfriend. Both had been a little too submissive for her tastes. Clara ducked her head momentarily as she blushed, though the arachnid mage noted chocolate brown eyes roam the form before her, “Are you…here at your leisure?” the young hemomancer asked hesitantly.

The spider chuckled and shifted her hand to cup her chin instead, pulling their bodies closer, “Would you like it if I was?” she husked.

Clara flushed redder, and she bit her bottom lip. It was painted a deep wine red, in great contrast to the tooth currently gnawing at it. “I-I learned a new trick. Would you like to see?” she only stammered slightly, to her credit.

The spider released a mournful sigh, “I’m afraid I have some business to attend. Perhaps another time. You wouldn’t happen to know where Vladimir is, would you?”

The hemomancer’s eyes lit up. “Lord Vladimir! Yes, he passed through approximately an hour ago with the matron. He is upstairs in his private wing.”

Elise allowed a smile to curve her lips. “Thank you, Clara. It is a pleasure to see you, as always,” she pulled her closer, placing a delicate kiss upon her forehead.

She didn’t need to look to know the girl was swooning. Smirking internally, Elise pulled away, meandering towards the stairs and following the red carpet upwards. A butler bowed as he recognized her. Vladimir’s wing was near the end of the hallway, separated by a pair of rich mahogany doors. Elise pushed them open without much fanfare, crimson hues searching for the hemomancer and the arcane mage. Perhaps one may believe it unnecessary to have such an enormous private space, especially considering Vladimir owned a separate mansion, but the trio had always tended towards excessiveness. Soft murmurs drew Elise towards the end of the corridor.

A small chirp echoed overhead, and she glanced upward to find a curious creature with a bat’s head and bird’s wings peering at her from its place on the curved support beams. It opened its mouth in a yawn, revealing multiple rows of jagged teeth. Leaning forward on claws that peeked out from the feathers at the bend of its wings, it launched its small body into the air, guiding Elise forward. Elrem, Vladimir’s chimera.

The hemomancer immediately spotted her as Elrem made his way over to his roost by the window, “ _Madame_ , this is a private space.”

Elise’s eyes automatically traveled to a cross-shaped device at the head of the bed, laden with supple rope and circular bindings. No doubt what it was for. She fixed the hemomancer with an innocent look, “I’m confused. Since when was your room private?” Honestly, he was never alone when he was here.

Vladimir scoffed and moved to get out of bed, undeterred by the fact that he was entirely unclothed. As he wandered towards the walk-in closet, the other occupant of the mattress, in an equal state of undress, turned to blink lazily at the Spider Queen. “Mmm, Elise, if you were planning to come, you should have done so earlier,” LeBlanc murmured as she stretched, “We could have had so much more fun.”

Her hair was slightly tussled, and the spider mage moved closer to tuck a strand behind her ear. She hated that she would have to ruin the matron’s pleasant mood. “Get dressed,” she uttered softly as she was pulled in for a chaste kiss, “I have news for you.”

LeBlanc’s lips were delightfully warm. The matron only hummed as they pulled apart and slowly crawled out of bed, giving Elise a very agreeable view of her rear end. She caught her looking and winked, reaching a hand to the floor for her discarded bra. She opted to put it on normally, as opposed to simply snapping her fingers to dress herself like Elise knew she could. The teasing process went on for a few minutes before Vladimir stepped back out. “Having regrets, Elise?” he asked with an all-knowing smirk as he adjusted his collar.

“No,” was the stony reply, “Stay for a moment. You should see this as well.”

She found LeBlanc abruptly in her lap, smiling coyly. Elise’s hand automatically went to her hip to hold her still. She held out her other to Vladimir. He finished knotting his tie before taking it curiously. The arachnid mage’s body hummed with magic as she opened a mental link, delving into her recent memories of Teleneus and his traitorous intent.

“The blood bonds cannot be trusted.”

LeBlanc’s expression shifted into one colder than the harshest blizzards of the Freljord.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cassiopeia touches something hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OnionsAreDisgusting is a cute beta.

Silence pervaded the room. Neither Elise nor Vladimir dared to break it; their eyes were glued to LeBlanc’s every expression. The arachnid mage watched the brief flicker of cold fury before the matron steeled her emotional mask into one of neutrality, but she could still make out the burning embers behind those eyes as they stared intensely at the Crimson Circle’s expensive carpet.

Leblanc stood, her gold-lined cloaking fluttering with the sudden movement. “Elise, bring me Teleneus. I’ll be waiting in the dungeon.”

She was gone in a snap of magic.

The remaining pair in the room exhaled simultaneously. “How did a fool like him manage that?” Vladimir wondered out loud.

“It was the same case with a mole a few days ago. I had believed it to be an isolated case but…” Elise trailed off and then shook her head, “I must go.”

The hemomancer nodded, and held his arm out to Elrem, “I will check up on our tracking charms.”

But Elise had already stopped listening and teleported away.

Teleneus resided near the Ivory Ward. She could hear the racket of the market as she appeared on the top of his roof. His protection charms might as well have been nonexistent to her. She broke them without trying and morphed into a plume of smoke, shooting down the chimney. He was reading next to the fireplace as she rushed into the living room, cloaking the area in shadows and soot. Elise reformed above him as an enormous spider. Teleneus’s eyes were pulled away from his book as he looked left and right, perplexed at the darkness that suddenly enveloped his living room.

“ _Good afternoon, old man_.”

She struck.

He shrieked as she lunged downward, latching onto his shoulder with her fangs. Her pedipalps encircled his head to hold him still. His book fell from his grasp as she teleported them away.

It fell to the ground with a resounding thud.

* * *

The dungeons, even deeper underground than the Black Rose catacombs, held the chill of necrotic magic that never ceased to excite Elise. This was where information was gleaned – where those foolish enough to cross the matron of the secret cabal suffered for their actions, writhing in anguish that would ultimately drive them into madness. They felt the sweet caress of death every second of their miserable lives but never would they be allowed to pass into its grasp. Not until LeBlanc had bled their soul dry.

She had her pale legs crossed upon the iron throne within the great hall as Elise threw Teleneus to the cold stone floor. The enormous room was the center of the prison and offered multiple passages into dark corridors on the far side, each leading to a plethora of cells that housed poor, unfortunate souls. Wraiths, one of Elise’s gifts from the Shadow Isles, roamed those areas as jailors, feeding off pain. The bright manafire overhead was focused away from the matron, casting her in darkness and allowing all spectators to view her newest victim unhindered.

Teleneus immediately got to his feet, “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded of Elise. His hands glowed a faint blue as he pointed towards her in fury.

“Teleneus,” LeBlanc lazily drew out his name. Her tone was flat.

The man paled as his magic sputtered and died. Elise gave him a cruel smirk as she backed away, shifting into her black widow form and skittering up the wall. The upper half of the great hall served as one of the multiple nests of the Spider Queen. Silken egg sacs dotted the support beams and walls. The ceiling was entirely black. It shifted as streams of dark creatures swarmed across thick nets of webbing, hung like hammocks. The smaller spiderlings instinctively made way for their queen as she crawled near. A clear space of webbing was a perfect vantage point to watch Teleneus’s judgment. Elise returned to her human form, lying on her side with her head propped up on a fist. An egg sac twitched nearby – hundreds of wriggling unborn spiders threatened to burst through. She carefully reached her index talon forward, slicing the first layer of the protective capsule open. Elise cooed as the baby arachnids spilled out, engulfing the emptied silk in a matter of seconds. They probed curiously at the hive mind of her brood, accumulating themselves to their new world.

“Matron!” Teleneus gave her an awkward bow, though his brow remained furrowed in confusion. He had never visited the dungeons before. “I had not expected to be in your presence today. Forgive me for my callous behavior.”

Groveling already. Elise snorted in disdain. The rune circle below him flared to life – a more powerful version of the truth spell. And a cage if necessary. She heard the tapping of LeBlanc’s nails against the armrest of her throne. The arcane mage allowed a good thirty seconds for Teleneus to sweat before she bothered saying anything, “Many years ago you sought me out and begged for a position at my table. I granted your wish with the generosity I have always provided you. In return, all I wanted was your loyalty. Tell me, is that too much to ask for?”

“N-no, matron,” he swallowed audibly, his fear spiking. His hands trembled.

Elise leaned forward in anticipation. She could feel the rapid pace of his heart as it writhed in terror in his chest. “Then why is it that I have encountered evidence of your correspondence with the enemy?” the matron inquired.

“I…I’m afraid I don’t know what you're talking about.”

The runic circle remained intact. Elise tilted her head with interest. LeBlanc raised her hand, palm faced upward. The ring Teleneus carried flared a pure white as she activated the blood magic within, signaling a lack of tampering with the contract. The matron only looked intrigued as she lowered her arm. “The spy of yours that attained the scry recording of Elise’s visit to Du Couteau mansion – where did you find him?”

“He was recommended by an associate from Bilgewater, m-matron. He has been very reliable.”

“How often does he report?”

“Once a week unless I ask him otherwise,” Teleneus wrung his hands together as sweat beaded on his brow.

“And anything else of interest?”

At that question, he glanced up fearfully at the ceiling, though Elise knew the glow of the manafire was bright enough that he would see nothing but darkness. Sensing LeBlanc’s judgment drawing to a close, she took upon her arachnid form once again, skittering to the support beam over the iron throne. The black widow rappelled downward, coming to a stop just behind LeBlanc. She craned her head to peer at the sniveling man. “ _Speak, Teleneus_ ,” Elise’s telepathic order echoed through the heads of everyone in the room.

Soft fingers caressed the side of her chelicerae, tracing the softer carapace that led to her fangs. The enormous spider released a chitter of satisfaction, her multiple blood-red eyes still glaring at Teleneus. He held his breath before ultimately answering, “The Spider Queen plots against you.”

The room grew several degrees colder, and LeBlanc’s grip upon Elise tightened. The spider herself hissed with rage, “ _You dare_!” She tore away from the matron’s grasp, intending to lunge for his throat and tear it open.

“Elise.”

She abruptly found herself frozen in place as LeBlanc extended the magic of the truth circle to encompass her form. The fact that the arcane mage even dared to think there was any accuracy to Teleneus’s claim made Elise see red. LeBlanc’s wide-eyed gaze bore into her. The seeds of doubt had been sown. “You have the heart to betray me?” she asked forlornly.

“ _Never_!” 

Her brood of spiderlings, sensing their queen’s distress, had begun to creep down the walls, turning the normally motionless shadows into writhing shapes of vermillion eyes and spindly legs. Teleneus saw none of this. His stance hardened as he finally found some ground to stand upon. “It’s true! You seek her power! You plot with the serpent for her downfall!”

It made no sense. Both of them were unable to tell lies while the runic circle was activated. Frustrated, Elise writhed in LeBlanc’s freezing spell, itching to pull Teleneus apart to see how he managed to circumvent such powerful magic. Golden chains erupted from the floor, looping around them both and locking them in place. They burned as only pure arcane forces could, and Elise screeched in pain as she crumpled to the ground. She saw a burst of purple fly towards Teleneus, knocking him unconscious.

LeBlanc stood before her. “ _You ask for my trust, but I do not have yours_ ,” Elise growled to her, jerking at her bonds.

The matron’s expression was pained. “I do not wish to do this, but I must.”

Her touch held not pleasure, but agony as LeBlanc invaded Elise’s mind, merging their consciousnesses into one. The spider felt a flurry of emotions and thoughts all at once, pushing and shoving over each other as each was pulled to the forefront of her attention. Vladimir’s raised eyebrow as they pondered over petricite, Cassiopeia’s foreboding shadow as she coiled like a viper about to strike its prey, a spiderling circling to and fro as it constructed its web, LeBlanc herself with her spine arched in pleasure and wet lips parted, Vilemaw with his jaws spread wide as he tore the head off a hapless Black Rose acolyte, Teleneus with his finger pointed accusingly at her-

Elise went limp and slumped over.

* * *

A gentle touch caressed her head, coaxing her back into consciousness. Elise's hand shot out to grab whoever it was, wincing at the flash of memories that still weakly pervaded her mind. A soothing calm came over her, and her grip weakened. LeBlanc was still in her head. “Get out,” Elise croaked.

There was a pang of sadness. It wasn’t her own. LeBlanc had been deep enough to cause her to revert to her human form. “You know I would never hurt you if there was another way.”

Elise tried to muster the rage she knew she should be feeling, but the matron’s consciousness actively tried to persuade her otherwise. “Go to hell.”

“I’ve only ever tried to protect you.”

_No, you’ve only ever tried to protect the Black Rose._

Elise didn’t say it out loud, but she knew LeBlanc heard it just the same. Pain and regret from the matron washed over the arachnid mage, but it didn’t change the fact that she had just been mentally violated. “Teleneus has gaps in his mind. It is why the truth spell was ineffective,” LeBlanc said, attempting to change the subject.

Elise said nothing. Her eyes remained closed. Eventually, the grip upon her mind loosened slightly.

Her anger, even if it was slight, rushed back and Elise immediately used it to force LeBlanc the rest of the way out. Their mental powers clashed, but she could easily tell the arcane mage didn’t have the heart to fight her. Elise’s eyes shot open as she was freed, her hand smoking with necrotic magic.

She took a swipe at LeBlanc, who blinked back out of range. They were in Elise’s chambers within the Black Rose, a rarely used space. Her deathly power scorched the blankets around her, and she snarled before leaping to the center of the room and sending another bolt of magic toward the matron. LeBlanc only shielded herself and never fought back. It only added to Elise’s growing frustration as she tossed flurry after flurry of sickly green and utter darkness at the matron.

LeBlanc’s aura was cracking. Elise could see the spiderwebs forming upon her defenses. She let loose a spark of bright magic, bathing the entire room in a swath of light. The petricite bag manifested in her left hand and she tossed it towards the matron, intent on releasing its power upon shredding the protective Vastayan leather.

An arcane explosion buffeted her backward before she could do so, forcing Elise to shield her eyes from flying debris. She blinked and hissed.

LeBlanc was gone.

_Coward._

She strode over and snatched the petricite back. The room was a mess of wood chips, shredded carpet, and glass shards. She was panting, even though she hadn’t exerted herself that extensively. Her heart beat a steady, powerful drum in her ears. Elise curled her fists so hard she felt her talons pierce her skin. Hot blood welled from her hand, dripping onto the ruined floor. LeBlanc was always like this. Careless of emotional consequence. To her, it was better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. To her, everyone else was a _pawn_. Elise squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath.

If Teleneus hadn’t brought her loyalty into question-

_Teleneus._

The one who had started this.

Elise’s rage found a new target, like a bloodhound picking up the scent of injured prey. She put more force into the teleportation spell than necessary, charring what remained of the carpet around her.

He cowered into the corner of his prison when she arrived. The wraiths guarding him did not protest as she threw open the barred door and dragged him out, long claws digging into his shoulder. Their eerie eyes focused upon the scene, but they did nothing more than twitch their bony fingers and continue haunting the corridors.

“S-spider queen, please! I would never have stated such words to the matron had it been my choice!” Teleneus babbled as he flailed.

Elise shapeshifted into her spider form and tied him in a net of webbing. She hauled him to her nest, ignoring his pleas as he was towed over the rough ground. The rune branded upon his arm silenced his magic, and she easily bound him spread-eagled to one of her webs.

“ _You should have learned to mind your own business in the first place_ ,” she hissed, “ _Now you pay the price_.”

Her spiderlings swarmed at the edges of her vision, keeping clear of their queen as she worked. A precise swipe of her front legs sliced Teleneus’s abdomen open in two places, and red spread across his tunic. He howled in pain. Her children chittered in excitement as they smelled his fear and blood. She wedged her pedipalps into one of the wounds, spreading it open.

“What are you doing?!” he shrieked.

Elise ignored him. She flexed her abdomen, and her eggs spilled out into his body cavity, large dots of glossy white in contrast to the crimson leaking from his injury. She patted them carefully inside with her pedipalps, ensuring they were packed securely before using her silk to sew up the wound with well-practiced movements. She left a thick layer of silk to stop any additional bleeding. The process was repeated on the other side as Teleneus whimpered and gasped.

Elise took a step back to survey her handiwork. His abdomen bulged with unborn young. She rubbed her pedipalps onto the webbing beneath her to rid them of Teleneus’s horrid scent. He had gone strangely quiet, and the black widow returned her attention to him. His blank expression stared back at her. He was unmoving. Broken already? She would have scoffed in human form as she crawled over for closer observation. His heart still beat irregularly and he was faintly panting, but it was if his consciousness had abruptly switched off. Was this part of the lapse LeBlanc spoke of? Elise spotted something imprinted on his neck and reached one of her limbs out to move his face to the side.

 _A feather tattoo_.

She pulled her leg back in surprise, and his head returned to its natural place. His eyes twitched, and they focused upon her, though the blank expression remained. There was a darkness within them now, an intensity that Elise had never seen from Teleneus. It was gone as quickly as it came, and the man jerked again as he returned to his nightmare. He spotted the two tumor-like bulges courtesy of Elise and choked upon his saliva. The black widow pulled away, curling her chelicerae. “ _Have fun Teleneus. I’m sure I will_.”

He screamed as she skittered down the wall, and she cackled in delight.

* * *

Elise had hoped to find peace of mind after her very productive torture session, but the sight of the tattoo kept flickering in her mental eye as she exited the dungeons and returned to her mansion. She scowled as she threw herself upon the living room couch. It was LeBlanc’s business, not hers. Still, her gut twisted with suspicion. She grumbled under her breath. A distraction was in order. She pulled out the sending stone that was connected to Cassiopeia’s.

“You just can’t stay away, can you?” came the serpent’s smoky voice after Elise had tapped it a few times.

“Don’t give yourself so much credit. You’re only a small step above utter boredom,” the arachnid mage shot back.

“Hmm. I see we still need to work on your manners,” Cassiopeia responded snidely.

“Your father. Do you still wish to know about him?”

There was a pause on the other end. “I’m listening.”

“Come through the portal,” Elise ordered and ended the connection.

She tossed the stone onto the floor and zapped it with a spark of magic. It emitted a soft whirring sound before sky blue light trickled from its heart, floating upward to form a circular shape. Elise wondered if she cared enough to call Vladimir. She decided she would want him on her side at the moment, considering LeBlanc was being a _prat_. She reached her mind outward, searching for one of the few spiderlings she had planted within the Crimson Circle. It was in the lobby, and she quickly spied the hemomancer with a flute of champagne in one hand.

_Petricite and Cassiopeia. My place._

She kept her message brief. Cassiopeia peered through the portal. The serpent spotted the arachnid mage lounging upon her sofa and slid through, tongue darting out to taste her new surroundings. The rest of her long form spilled into the living room, giving Elise a true estimation of her length. She watched the reflection of light upon emerald scales ripple and distort as the thick tail of pure muscle carried the serpent to the foot of the couch. “I must admit,” Cassiopeia’s drawl filled the still air, “I expected a bigger abode given your personality.”

Elise smirked, “I wouldn’t want you to feel terribly out of your own league.”

She detected a powerful aura behind her just as a small _poof_ was heard. “Evening, darlings!” a cheerful voice announced, “I hope I’m not late to the party.”

Cassiopeia’s attention turned to a space beyond Elise, and the spider tilted her head to spot Vladimir giving her a gracious bow. “Lord Vladimir, I presume,” the serpent stated more than asked.

“Ah, Lady Cassiopeia! I am delighted to be in your presence. I have been very eager to meet the Black Rose’s princess of the sands,” Vladimir moved forward to grab ahold of the serpent’s hand for a kiss but Cassiopeia shifted ever so subtly backward.

Elise noted her scales sliding against one another as her tail coiled tighter. The hemomancer took the rejection in stride and placed his elbow upon the spider’s shoulder instead. He was immediately shrugged off.

“How positively charming,” Cassiopeia’s voice was sickly sweet, a contrast to her previous action. Jade hues fixed upon Elise. “Now, what do you want in exchange for information?”

Elise fetched the petricite from its hiding place in her pocket and held it up. She could feel it leeching her power from its point of contact, like invisible tendrils digging themselves under her skin. 

The snake cocked an eyebrow at her. “If you expect me to return to what I once was, I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed,” there was almost a bitter tone to her voice.

Elise laughed. “I’ll bet you wish it were that easy.”

“Shall we take this outside? I would hate for any accidents to devastate your antique furniture,” Cassiopeia gestured around the living room.

“Is that opinion from prior experience?” the spider inquired.

The edge of Cassiopeia’s lips tilted upwards deviously. “Dealing with mages? Yes.”

Elise scoffed but snapped her fingers, teleporting the trio a short distance behind her mansion. They stood upon a slab of concrete interrupted by small plots of flowers – ghost orchids, bleeding hearts, birds of paradise, and more; Elise had always been a fan of the exotic ones. Above, the branches of a large tree reached across the yard, casting them in pleasant shade.

Elise raised her hand upward, forming a dome-shaped bubble that would protect them from prying eyes and ears. She etched a protective rune between them next. Cassiopeia had her arms crossed, cautiously eyeing her. The spider wordlessly held out the petricite.

The snake extended her arm slowly, the golden claws on her thumb and forefinger carefully gripping the shard between their sharp ends. She adjusted her grip so that it fell into her hand. Cassiopeia’s aura flared brightly as soon as she did so, making Elise jerk away in surprise. The serpent’s magic was being pulled into the stone, like water to dry sand, but the curse only reacted more strongly in response. The snake glanced at her, perplexed, and unable to see what was happening. “What?”

Elise stared at her. “What happened the last time you came into contact with petricite?”

“Nothing,” Cassiopeia answered slowly before fixing her with a suspicious glare, “ _What is happening_?”

“Do you feel anything?”

“No, I–”

“Nothing at all?” Elise interrupted, searching her face for signs of deception.

The serpent tossed the stone to the ground in exasperation. Immediately, her aura subsided, though the petricite leaked magic like dynamite waiting to explode. Elise and Vladimir leaped backward as if a manabomb had been tossed in their direction. Cassiopeia coiled her tail in a nest-like fashion and leaned upon it. “We’re not continuing until one of you tells me why you’re gawking at me like children initially encountering magic,” she said crossly, peridot eyes darting between the two.

The spider and hemomancer shared a look, each debating how much to divulge. Cassiopeia bristled, “It would behoove you to stay within my good graces by telling me the truth,” her tongue darted out as if tasting their secrecy.

Elise sighed, putting a hand to her temples. She inhaled deeply, “Your curse fights back against the magic draining properties by becoming more… prominent. This, in turn, causes the petricite to absorb more power until it reaches its limit. Normally, auras fade when exposed to petricite. Yours does the exact opposite.”

Cassiopeia’s talons tapped impatiently against her coils, “This is surprising because…?

“Your power overloads it and makes it unstable,” Vladimir explained, taking a step forward and eyeing the petricite vigilantly, “something incredibly difficult for even a battalion of mages to accomplish. And you said you’ve done this before? Intriguing.”

The serpent raised an eyebrow and glanced back at the shard on the concrete. “I wasn’t informed of this development in the past,” she mused.

Elise’s gaze sharpened. This information in the wrong hands could have been devastating. “Who provided it to you initially?”

Cassiopeia’s eyes were slits, “A courier of the Black Rose.”

“Who?” Crimson hues narrowed suspiciously.

“I don’t know. I was never provided a name. You know how secretive our little organization can be.”

Which meant LeBlanc likely had knowledge of this and kept it to herself. For what? Another power play over her enemies? Her allies? Vladimir interrupted Elise’s thoughts before she could delve too far into her anger again. “This doesn’t make any sense. Swain would have easily been disposed of had the matron known about this.”

That much was true. LeBlanc never hesitated to take advantage of her opportunities. It was unlike her to hold such a card for that long. Elise bit her lip, the inkling of an idea creeping in her veins. “Did they give you three pieces?”

The tip of Cassiopeia’s tail curled. “He returned at a later period claiming more petricite may counter the curse. There’s something else you’re not telling me,” she accused.

Elise clenched her jaw and shared another look with Vladimir. She knelt and began drawing a shield rune around the petricite. The lines began to emanate a soft light as she drew the last shape. She dared a look at Cassiopeia, who was coiled defensively. Perhaps a bit too much.

Elise fired a thin bolt of magic at the stone. A brief pulsating glow was all the warning they received before green ripples of energy erupted from the petricite, barely detained by Elise’s shield. She inhaled sharply as she felt the sudden burst of magic.

The exact same kind of magic that had attacked them in the meeting room.

Taking no chances, she spun and fired a web at Cassiopeia. It landed over her eyes as the serpent let out a loud hiss of protest and tried to back away. Unfortunately for her, that was quite difficult with her large tail, and Elise morphed into a spider, pinning her down face first with her front legs. Vladimir had his hands raised and pointed towards the serpent, though he took no aggressive action. A spitting sound reached Elise as Cassiopeia squirmed in her grasp, her tail thrashing left and right. Gods she was strong. Even though the black widow was much bigger, she was almost thrown off. She scented the acrid smell of caustic poison.

“What are you doing? Are you insane?” Cassiopeia shrieked.

Elise managed to bind her tail and arms to the ground, “ _I suppose we’ll find out. Vladimir! Truth circle_.”

The hemomancer just sighed and cast the spell. “And here I thought the blood magic preventing others from harming the Black Rose was more reliable,” he commented.

He reached for Cassiopeia. “Don’t-“ she started but gave up as he pressed his hand to her shoulder.

The snake continued struggling. “ _Cassiopeia, hold still. I’m not trying to hurt you_ ,” Elise sighed.

“Hilarious coming from someone who literally just attacked me,” the naga shot back.

“ _What do you know about the petricite the courier gave you when you were trying to find a way to reverse your curse_?” the spider asked.

“He gave them to me. I touched them, and _nothing happened_! That’s the last I saw of any of that until today. Get off me!”

Elise pondered her next question. “ _Have you recently experienced any lapses in memory? Anything strange you were unable to account for_?”

Cassiopea stopped struggling for a beat. “Elise, how old do you think I am? I’m not _senile_.”

“ _Answer the question_.”

“No, I haven’t!”

Elise grunted in satisfaction and got off her, morphing back into a human. She waved the silk away, and Cassiopeia jerked into an upright position, her glare positively venomous. The smooth surface of the ground underneath her had burned away, revealing craggly stone underneath, as if the Spider Queen’s brood had taken to nibbling holes into the concrete. Elise was forced to leap away as a scaled tail smashed onto the spot where she had been just seconds before. The stone cracked. Vladimir backed away, wanting no part in the catfight.

“Sorry,” Elise sounded anything but as she shrugged remorselessly at the serpent, “Consider it karma for our last encounter.”

Cassiopeia pulled her tail back and Elise heard the rattling sound again. “You,” the serpent said in a low tone as she rose higher to tower over the spider, “think you can do whatever you wish because the matron likes you…”

She spat her poison at Elise, the toxic substance arcing through the air and spraying onto the flower garden. The arachnid mage teleported a short distance backward, dismayed to see the orchids had immediately shriveled. 

Cassiopeia turned to Vladimir next, but he threw his hands up, “Don’t mind me, ladies. I’ll simply enjoyed the show,” he smiled apprehensively.

Elise shot him a withering look. She glanced back at Cassiopeia and-

_Froze._

Shit. The spider willed her limbs to move, but nothing happened. The serpent’s cat-like eyes had lit up dimly, applying a weaker version of her petrifying gaze upon Elise. Cassiopeia languidly slithered over to the petricite shard, scooping it up in a clawed hand. At once, it was charged again, and the serpent gave the frozen mage a sly smile as she glided over. Elise felt the back of a claw slide against her stomach and upward, between her breasts and then to her neck, where Cassiopeia casually flicked her chin. Then, the serpent began to coil around her, squeezing her spider appendages together so that they pressed painfully against her back. Her legs were bound as well, and the naga was before her again, the supercilious expression Elise was growing to detest _immensely_ upon her face. The petricite pressed against the sensitive spot on her throat, just between her collarbones.

“Don’t worry, honey. It’ll wear off. However, if you were smart you still wouldn’t try anything.”

The shard felt hot against Elise’s neck. She attempted to wriggle her fingers, and they twitched slightly. “You’re going to tell me what is going on, and then you will fulfill your part of the bargain.”

Elise tried to work her mouth but only managed a small groan as Cassiopeia’s thick tail casually tightened. She began to feel lightheaded. “I can break every single one of your ribs for amusement. Do you have a preference for which ones I start with?” the snake husked.

The spider managed to make eye contact with Vladimir in the background, but he had his arms crossed and simply raised an eyebrow at her. _Asshat_. Elise found that she could swallow. Her tongue seemed to be responding to her again, thankfully. “I’m aware people like it tight, but you could loosen up a bit if you’d like me to speak properly,” she wheezed.

She gasped as the coils abruptly tensed before relaxing. Cassiopeia might have cracked a rib. Air had never tasted so sweet as Elise inhaled gratefully. The serpent’s tongue flicked out. It tickled her cheek. “Well?” the naga demanded.

Elise pulled her head back as far as she could. “Someone managed to repurpose your curse magic to turn it into a trap. I triggered it the other day when I took the petricite out for the first time. The curse that came out feels exactly like-” – she made a show of looking down at the shard – “that.”

“Why do the blood magic bonds no longer work?” Cassiopeia asked. Her look was intense, and Elise was half convinced that she may be petrified for good.

The spider grit her teeth. “I don’t know, but it’s only in certain cases.”

The serpent tightened her grip around Elise. She winced. “I don’t!”

There was a gasp behind Cassiopeia, and Elise tilted her head to the side to find Vladimir on one knee, a grimace upon his face. The hemomancer looked up to meet her gaze with some difficulty, and she could see his magic working intensely against whatever was happening as his eyes shone a brilliant red. Cassiopeia turned to look as well, and Elise used her momentary lapse of attention to thrash violently. Her side protested in pain. The serpent hissed, but the petricite lost its contact against her neck. Elise teleported away and reappeared next to Vladimir, who abruptly dissolved into a pool of blood, leaving trickles of crimson magic behind.

She heard Cassiopeia swear and turned an accusing scowl upon the snake. “What did you do?”

The pool of red slid backward a short distance and Vladimir reformed, looking positively annoyed. He waved a hand at his magic that still hovered in the air, drawing it into a ball. _Poison_ , Elise realized as she clutched her bruised flank.

“Lady Cassiopeia, they say secrets can be dangerous, but for you, it appears to be quite literal,” Vladimir intoned.

The snake flexed her claws, “Blame yourself for touching me.”

“We had every reason to suspect you,” Elise shot back.

“You were looking for an excuse to be violent.” A roll of her lime eyes.

The hemomancer released a sigh, though his expression was stern. “I believe this is where I take my leave,” he raised his pale eyes to the serpent, “Though heed my warning. Attempted murder upon one of us earns you no favors.”

There was a clear totem pole within the Black Rose, and Cassiopeia was not high enough to be shown mercy. The serpent bristled at the threat, her tail twitching irritably. With that, Vladimir was gone, presumably back to the Crimson Circle, or to tell LeBlanc what they had just discovered. It would save Elise from that hassle, at the very least.

Cassiopeia crossed her arms, the petricite shard still in her grasp. She didn’t seem as if she would lunge for Elise again, but she wasn’t the easiest person to read. A long tongue flicked out as the pair stared each other down. “I’ve jumped through enough of your hoops,” Cassiopeia intoned, though annoyance was still clear on her face, “Tell me what happened to my father.”

Elise narrowed wine-red eyes at her. “Fine,” she held her hand out for the petricite.

Cassiopeia eyed her outstretched palm for longer than necessary before relinquishing her ownership of the stone.

“He was not assassinated because it would have resulted in too much attention given his status as general,” Elise said as she placed the shard within the shield circle she had drawn and stripped it of its power again, “Instead, he was enticed. I took him to the Shadow Isles and murdered him.”

She placed the petricite back within its confines of Vastayan leather. Cassiopeia searched her face for any signs of deceit. “Did you bury him?”

Elise chuckled at the question, “Why would I?” When she saw the snake’s tight expression, she said instead, “I wasn’t aware you cared for him.”

“He was many horrible things, but he was still my father,” the serpent looked away, seemingly lost in thought.

Elise sensed there was more to that statement, but she took the lack of further questions as her cue to teleport them back to her living room. She allowed herself the satisfaction of watching the vexed Cassiopeia wobble slightly from the unexpected action. Another snap of magic opened the portal to Du Couteau mansion. Elise cleared her throat as Cassiopeia was about to slither through, and the serpent paused. “Why was I not poisoned?” the spider asked, “I touched you as well.”

Cassiopeia’s calculating peridots regarded her, and for a moment, Elise thought she was about to get a straight answer. The naga’s expression twisted into an arrogant smirk as she said, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

And left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Elise.  
> Poor Marcus.  
> Poor Vladimir.  
> Poor Cass?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cassiopeia gives Elise 69 missed calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta OnionsAreDisgusting lied to me about their birthday.
> 
> In other news, sorry for the delay! Was a little busy and actually forgot to post.

LeBlanc had been attempting to contact her. Elise had done everything in her power to ignore her. The matron’s patience could run as vast as the Guardian Sea, but Elise would ensure that they would not have a word until it dried out. The black widow pressed her spinnerets to the ceiling before pushing off, dangling by a literal thread as she rappelled downward to check on Teleneus. He was in such a constant state of panic that it was a miracle he hadn’t had a heart attack yet. Or something equally devastating.

“ _You seem to have slept well_ ,” Elise rumbled above him.

A strangled whimper was the only response she received. She lowered her head to check upon the eggs. It had barely been a day, but they were ready to hatch. Ah, the wonders of magic. His abdomen bulged obscenely now, and Elise could make out the movement of her brood wriggling beneath the skin. Soon, they would be ready to devour him from the inside out. She had just finished reinforcing Teleneus’s bonds when she heard a single pair of footsteps enter the great hall. The tap of boots had a lower note to it than LeBlanc’s high heels, so the spider became curious enough to peer over her web.

Vladimir waved amiably at her from below. “Honestly, Elise. This is where you go to hide from Emi? I expected you to be out wine-tasting at noon or something equally dramatic. Is that someone I sense up there? They’re going to die soon, you know. That heart beat is absolutely _staggering_.”

She glanced back at the pale Teneus. “I’m aware.”

She skittered to the ground, morphing into her human form as she approached him. “LeBlanc is informing Arabelle as we speak,” Vladimir said.

Elise snorted. “I’m surprised she’s following through with the plan.”

“You still have yet to tell me what transpired.”

He rolled his eyes at Elise’s deadly glare. “Fine, keep it to yourself, but I refuse to play telephone with you pair. Why are you still so interested if you’re angry with her?”

“I’m not doing it for her,” Elise scowled.

There was a chitter not too far above, and she tilted her head upwards to find that a curious spiderling had rappelled its way down, hanging directly over Vladimir’s head. His lip curled, “ _Absolutely_ not.”

He took a few steps backward, pale eyes still upon the arachnid. Elise took his place and extended her arm so that it could crawl from her bicep and perch upon her shoulder. Vladimir watched her with a mixture of disgust and fascination.

“It scents blood,” she told him as she used the back of a finger to rub the underside of its head, “Were you having fun this morning?”

“A minor incident. Nothing you should concern yourself over,” Vladimir sniffed.

Elise obviously didn’t believe him and he knew it, but she wasn’t interested enough to ask again. “Who are you doing it for then?” the hemomancer asked.

Distracted by her pet, Elise blinked at him once before she remembered their line of conversation. “No one you should concern yourself over,” she parroted with a smirk.

The hemomancer sighed, “You know what I-“

A strangled moan echoed from her nest, and Elise raised an index finger to shush Vladimir with a sly smile, “My favorite part.”

Her brood was hatching. The two waited patiently, watching the ripples of the Spider Queen’s web as Teleneus began to jerk at his bindings. His groans became louder as the spiderlings began to feast, crescendoing into howls of anguish as they burrowed into his organs.

“Say, you wouldn’t happen to have use for his heart would you?” Vladimir asked casually.

Elise raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, don’t fret, there will be plenty left for you little spiders,” the hemomancer waved his hand at her carelessly.

The arachnid mage shook her head but said, “In a few hours perhaps.”

Leaving him to listen for as long as he pleased, she skittered up to her nest once more in spider form, approaching the writhing Teleneus whose face was permanently twisted into one of pure terror. The lumps on his abdomen had grown smaller as the spiderlings began to spread out. She placed her pedipalps upon the silk bandages at his sides and lifted them away, tearing open his wounds in the process. Her brood swarmed out, skittering over clammy skin. Elise morphed again, reaching a hand forward to a few of the small spiderlings. They crawled over her palm inquisitively, barely the size of her thumb. Their fangs remained pressed against their bodies, for they dare not bite their queen. Elise raised them to eye level, cooing softly at their adorable forms. There was one whose entire foreleg was a bright red, and she decided she liked it more than the others. _Feed, little ones_.

They darted off her arm, leaping back to their victim. Teleneus continued to wheeze. Her spiderlings purposely avoided sinking their fangs into his larger blood vessels; it would prolong his torture deliciously. Still, a circle of blood had already gathered below the old man, soaking into the pure white of her silk. She’d have to build a new web later. Elise ran her index talon over his scalp, “It’ll all be over soon,” she crooned, “but not too soon.”

She cackled as his mouth babbled gibberish.

* * *

Teleneus’s feather tattoo had disappeared. Elise’s gut told her the presence of that mark had to do with all the troubles lately. She was left with naught to do after watching the spark of life pass from his eyes, so she did something she rarely partook in – she hunted. The forests were easily in teleportation range of the Immortal Bastion, though plant life had been razed in an enormous radius around the city-state to protect it from ambushes.

Regular black widows enjoyed lying in wait inside the protection of their messy webs for unsuspecting prey, but Elise preferred a slightly more active approach. She perched motionlessly among the trees, high above the ground, a net of silk readied with her front legs and pedipalps. Loose strands of webbing dangled from the trap, ready to stick to an unfortunate victim.

Her mind continued to carefully turn the image of the feather tattoo over and over in her head. She finally managed to push it out, but then the thought of green magic whipping from a petricite shard disturbed her. It was close to the evening when she heard a loud rustle of leaves. Elise leaned forward.

A stag?

A cougar?

But no, a human hunter stalked the trees below her, sharp eyes darting left and right for signs of game. She held a shortbow in her steady grasp. She made the mistake of never looking up.

The net dropped heavily over her head, wrapping around her body and securing her limbs. The woman let out a yelp as she crashed to the ground, face planted into the dirt. Elise dropped from above, landing with a thud around her form. One of her pedipalps darted forward and yanked the broken bow away. “ _Ah, you shall do nicely_.”

Her victim wasn’t given another chance to cry out as Elise teleported them from the forest.

They reappeared in utter darkness, and the black widow clung to the wall, her prize still enveloped in her net. She sensed the movements of something large and curious. The poor hunter was abruptly released to the ground with a _thump_ as the webbing disappeared. She gasped and clambered awkwardly to her feet, hands grasping blindly around her. Elise felt her confused footsteps shifting in a circle and grinned inwardly.

“ _Aevus_ ,” the spider crooned, “ _Dinner_.”

A snarl sounded from her right, and the hunter whimpered before scrambling in the opposite direction. Aevus pounced forward from his hiding place, eagerly giving chase. Only a few seconds passed before a high pitched scream was abruptly cut off with a loud _snap_.

Elise took her time lowering herself to the ground, sliding back into her human form. Her heels tapped quietly against the stone as she approached her feasting chimera. The sounds of ripping flesh ceased momentarily as he raised his head in greeting. Elise reached upward to pet his shoulder, scratching him behind his ears. He growled in appreciation before returning to his meal.

“Enjoy, dear,” she gave him one last pat before heading back to her mansion.

Her enormous attic served as another of her nests. Spiderlings chittered in greeting as Elise swung open the trapdoor, the brief light illuminating their carapaced bodies. She paused to coo at one before drifting to the corner, where a thick sheet of webbing hung like a hammock. Adjacent was a bookshelf stuffed with old tomes. Elise chose one to her liking and flopped onto the web. A softly murmured spell created a ball of light overhead so that she could comfortably view the text.

She had barely settled down when she heard a snap of magic in the center of the room. The click of heels was muffled upon the webbing, and Elise took pleasure in the fact that her spiderlings did not skitter clear of her guest as they normally would. The Spider Queen was just petty that way.

She didn’t look up from her book until a shadow loomed over her, blocking the light. She put on her most dispassionate face before glancing at LeBlanc. Amber eyes stared back.

“You were not present this morning,” the matron kept her tone neutral.

“I was preoccupied,” Elise replied airily.

They held each other’s gaze for another long beat. Then LeBlanc held a fist out and uncurled it. In her palm was an ornate golden key, its handle engraved with small rubies and diamonds. Elise shut her book. “What’s this?”

“The key to my private vault.”

Ah, bribery. A muscle in Elise’s jaw twitched. A spiderling crawled into her lap, and she preoccupied herself with petting it. Another circled LeBlanc’s feet. “Would it kill you to just apologize?” Elise asked.

The matron sighed, “Make no mistake, Elise, it pained me greatly to harm you, but given the same circumstances, I would not change my actions. You claimed that I protect only the Black Rose, and it is true. You are part of it. And I will protect you, even if it is from yourself.”

Elise allowed another bout of silence to pass before snorting, “You’re so two-faced.”

LeBlanc needed her. It was the only reason why she wasn’t locked in the dungeon as Teleneus had been. She took pleasure in the fact that the matron grew tired of holding the key and instead allowed it to levitate enticingly in the air. Small victories.

“You are not a child in this game. You know that those who believe in faith and goodwill never survive,” LeBlanc chided softly.

And Elise was no fool. There was truth in those words. Still, LeBlanc had hurt her. This olive branch wouldn’t be enough, but it was a start. She spent a few seconds debating how far she could push the matron today, but decided it was enough. Not even Vladimir had access to her vault.

She reached out and plucked the key from LeBlanc’s magic. “And here I was under the impression it was only you that was allowed in there.”

The woman before her folded her arms, “There are exceptions as well as rules to follow.”

Elise raised an eyebrow. “Do I get a laundry list at least?”

The edge of LeBlanc’s darkly colored lips quirked upward as smoke began to encompass her body, “No. You may have a tour tomorrow, if you can stomach my presence for an hour, that is.”

“Please, I’ve been doing it for centuries.” Elise would not allow herself to smile.

The matron’s form faded.

The arachnid mage reopened the book in her lap, though her attention was more on the key in her grasp rather than the text before her. It was magic, obviously. It thrummed with LeBlanc’s arcane touch, but she couldn’t quite determine whether any wards had been cast upon it. She was so lost in thought that she jolted when Cassiopeia’s sending stone hummed loudly. “Now, who’s the one that can’t stay away?” Elise purred as she answered.

Contrary to her usual, Cassiopeia got straight to the point. “Lamberti manor. My contacts detected a magic user moving North from its premise.”

The spider briefly wondered about the snake’s vast network of connections. The pace with which information reached her was almost admirable. However, it was more concerning that this proved there were indeed more moles within the Black Rose, given the speed with which the perpetrator acted. “I’m not a dog at your beck and call, Cassiopeia.”

“This is part of your agreement, so honor it. We don’t have time,” the serpent snapped.

Elise allowed herself an exasperated sigh, “Very well.”

The Lambertis owned one of the largest mansions in Mortoraa and served as crucial financial supporters of the Black Rose. The entire family was part of the organization, with their patriarch Lorenzo Lamberti holding a seat in LeBlanc’s inner circle. Upsetting this family had significantly more impact than prodding at the Irvines.

Elise poofed into existence on the clock tower, gaze focused upon the north side of the manor. “I have a live scry feed,” Cassiopeia’s voice came from the sending stone she held, “He blended into a crowd and is headed towards the slums.”

Perfect, the slums. The heels she wore today were new.

Elise grunted before leaping into the air, teleporting into the darkness of an alleyway on the main street. The chatter here was incessantly loud, and she cast a spell to transmit Cassiopeia’s next words telepathically. “ _Look for dark red hair_.”

The arachnid mage paused. It couldn’t be. But Elise didn’t believe in coincidences. The serpent swore. “ _Elise! Did you see him? My contact is down_.”

Sure enough, cries of surprise rippled across the street as people began to gather in curiosity. Elise pushed her way through, finding a woman on the filthy ground, her throat slit viciously open. Her mouth moved in the shape of soundless words, but there was no saving her. Blood poured from her wound in rivulets, pumping in sync with her failing heart.

Elise turned away and focused her mind on the spiderling shadowing Teleneus’s spy. It had perched inside the fold of his collar and she wriggled her way out close to his neck. His hood was up, but as she peered outside, sure enough, the spy was on the main street heading towards the grubby slums at the edge of the Immortal Bastion. She had observed him enough to know that he lived and dealt there most of the time. Elise made note of his magic signature before encouraging the spiderling to hide itself once more.

“ _Elise_!” Cassiopeia was impatient.

“No need,” Elise said, keeping her tone low, “I know who it is. I’m going back to Lamberti manor.”

“Who-“

She cut the connection.

So Teleneus, who had lapses in his memory, had a spy who worked as a double agent for Swain. And that spy was attempting to frame Cassiopeia. But under whose command? Teleneus was dead and had otherwise been incapacitated for more than a day, but he _could_ have preemptively gave the order. Swain was a likelier venue, she concluded.

The mansion swarmed with people, both onlookers and the high command. Elise strode forward wearing the illusion of Amélie Lacroix, a private investigator of her creation with eyes too sharp for her own good. She stepped off the pathway and over the threshold of Lamberti manor.

A short guard stopped her immediately. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you aren’t allowed on this premise.”

She turned calmly to the boy who had blocked her path, giving him a proper once over and extending the silence, if only to make him uncomfortable. Elise adjusted her dark brim hat, peering at him over her sunglasses. He was dressed in the standard Noxian uniform, his youth and utter lack of stripes indicating the greenness of his status.

“I’m not?” she asked quietly, projecting an innocent façade.

He looked uncomfortable, but stood straight, “Er, no ma’am. We have orders to prevent anyone not associated with this investigation from entering.”

Elise dipped her head in agreement, “Good thing I’m an associate then.” Without waiting for an answer, she spun around to continue towards the front door, heels clicking against stone.

There was an indignant cry behind her as the young boy hurried to catch up with her long strides. “W-well, do you have an identification badge or-“

Elise turned on him, staring down at his flustered expression, “I have work to do, so I would suggest you get back to your post and cease wasting my time. It seems as if additional people are looking to come in.”

It was true. In the guard’s absence, the onlookers had crowded past the entrance, whispering among themselves. The boy’s eyes widened as he saw people beginning to spread out within the grounds and immediately dashed back towards them, calling at them to stop. Huffing with amusement, Elise entered the mansion. The front door was unlocked, and a soldier stood in the foyer on standby. He looked at her inquisitively, but she paid him no mind as she followed the sound of voices upstairs. A large man almost collided with her as she rounded the corner.

He glanced at her outfit. “This is a scene of crime. State your identity and purpose.”

Elise busied herself with dusting off imaginary lint, eyeing his burly form with distaste. “I’m here to see the Lambertis,” she said shortly.

“No one is to enter the perimeter. How did you get in?”

Elise glanced back down the stairs, “Through the front door?” she spoke slowly, as if he were a child.

He growled and grabbed her shoulder, intending to muscle her back the way she had come. The mage’s hand was upon his arm that same instant, and if it weren’t for a third voice, he might have found himself handicapped for the rest of his life.

“What’s going on?”

Elise pulled away roughly, schooling her expression into one of neutrality before turning to greet the newcomer. Red-rimmed, pale blue eyes stared back at her. Mira Lamberti, daughter of Lorenzo and Serena Lamberti. She looked as if she had been crying.

“Mira,” Elise purred and extended her hand, “Amélie Lacroix. I came as soon as possible. I work for your parents.”

The woman appeared to be in her early twenties. Cassiopeia’s age before her accident. Elise pushed that random thought from her mind and smiled convincingly. Mira seemed perplexed, but out of courtesy, she took the proffered handshake. Elise was within her mind without hesitation. _Be a dear and play along._

She flashed an image of her true self into Mira’s mind, causing her pale blue hues to widen in recognition. “M-Ms. Lacroix, thank you for coming. Have you seen…?” she looked rather lost as she gestured in the general direction Elise had been heading before the interruption.

The arachnid mage shook her head.

“Ms. Lamberti,” the gruff voice of the man behind them boomed, “I would appreciate it if you did not invite anyone else onto this property. This is a homicide case.”

Mira nodded quickly, muttering an apology, but Elise looked him in the eye, “I was hired by the family to investigate their suspicions that their lives were in danger. Surely, you would not deny their request, considering what just transpired?”

The man looked decidedly unhappy, but he grumbled something along the lines of consent before stepping aside. Mira gave Elise a worried look before scurrying down the hallway. Elise, on the other hand, threw him a dazzling smile before following. Mira stopped before a doorway, hesitantly turning the knob. She kept her gaze fixed on the plush carpet as she held the door open. Multiple pairs of eyes glanced at her curiously. “Private investigator,” a low voice rumbled. The man from before had shambled after them.

That took most of the attention off her, though Elise was already ignoring them in favor of the scene within the room. In the center was the partially shattered stone statue of Lorenzo Lamberti. His arm had been cleaved off and lay in broken pieces a foot or so away. He seemed to have been raising his hand to fight back before promptly being petrified. To the right, sitting upon the couch was another statue, though the torso had been smashed to bits, leaving only a long dress and a pair of feet behind. Elise could see various chunks of stone behind the sofa.

“Don’t touch anything,” the burly man grumbled to her as he passed.

Elise resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. There was a mage attempting a tracking charm, but she already knew that he would be unable to find anything. Whoever Teleneus’s spy – and apparent assassin – was, they were well-versed in magic and had barely left a trace. Elise turned her back to everyone in the room, pretending to be interested in something in the corner. She murmured a soft spell to allow her to see the amplified aura lines of previous magic that had been cast.

It had been a petrification spell, no doubt. Such spells required immense preparation, and only those with an affinity toward transfiguration would be able to cast one so confidently.

The aura lines didn’t leave the room, but they carried the same signature as the one she had seen through her spiderling. It was almost too easy.

Why?

She stepped out to the hallway, coming across a surprised Mira, who attempted to compose herself and hide the handkerchief she had been dabbing her eyes with. “Do you know who did this?” the woman asked quietly, “I heard there was a similar incident a few days ago. I’ve heard stories that we harbor a monster that can turn people to stone.”

Elise held her gaze for a moment. “Why don’t you go see the matron when you are able?” she uttered softly before turning away.

She had a mage to hunt.

* * *

She made her way to the _hole_ where the spy lived. Elise drew her hood further over her face as she stepped across the dirt ground. There was a stall selling _rats_. Not as pets or food for pets, but for _people_. A sewage pipe openly leaked something that smelled rank. The air was thick with smoke that partially obscured her vision, and Elise felt it settle as an uncomfortably thick layer on her skin. She suppressed a shudder, flexing her clawed gloves in agitation.

The spy was elsewhere, closing a deal of some sort. She managed to make out the glint of a vial full of Shimmer through her pet’s eyes. Elise ducked into a dark alleyway, curling her lip in disgust at the beggars collapsed on the ground. Two spiderlings spawned from her dark magic as she held her hand out to the brick wall, and they skittered upward, giving her a vantage point of the street. There was a door to the side, a nonmagical lock sealing it shut. Elise picked it open without much fanfare. It creaked as it swung on rusty hinges. “Cyrus, would you check the washroom? There is water leaking out-“ the middle-aged woman never got a chance to finish her sentence as Elise threw a silencing spell at her.

Ah yes, Aerith. His mother, the spider believed, though she really didn’t care to find out. Her webbing shot forward and ensnared the woman attempting to scrabble backward, easily subduing her to the wall. 

Elise held an index finger to her lips, “Let’s not disturb the neighbors, hmm?”

She morphed into a black widow, relishing the look of horror upon Aerith’s face. First, the spider finished cocooning her and moving her to the ceiling, out of direct view of the front door. The home was an incredibly small space, and Elise’s form barely fit into the living room, much less the kitchen, but she made it work, coating the area in invisible strands of silk. Mold grew in every corner. She left a spiderling to act as a sentry for when Cyrus returned. Surveying her lovely trap with satisfaction, Elise’s attention was briefly pulled to the wriggling Aerith.

“ _Oh don’t look so dour, dear. There’s a_ slight _chance I won’t have to kill you_.”

Her words only made her struggle more, and Elise internally shrugged before surging forward to bite her shoulder, injecting her body with deadly, paralytic venom. It was a waiting game after that. Gradually, Aerith’s movements ceased, and she was left patiently waiting for her next victim in the corner of the living room. She had to shrink down slightly to be able to maneuver properly, but no matter. Illusions hid her and her spiderlings well. The petricite she placed upon the floor would do nicely as a distraction.

It was dark by the time Cyrus made his way down the street. Three of her spiderlings had eyes upon him – the one hiding amidst his clothing and the two perched on the rooftop. She curled her fangs in anticipation as the lock jiggled. The door creaked open. He paused at the entryway as he spotted the petricite, then strode forward to pick it up.

Her spiderling leaped onto his head. Cyrus spun in surprise, raising his hand as if to blast it off. Nothing came out. Elise didn’t give him time to ponder his new situation before she darted from her hiding spot, ramming into him and sinking her fangs into the soft skin of his stomach. She gifted him just enough venom to incapacitate him.

Cyrus had dropped the petricite during the attack, and his magic coursed through his body again, blasting out of his hand in a flash of blue light. Elise screeched as it bounced off her shielded carapace and swept him off his feet with her front legs, throwing him to the opposite wall. He landed in a tangle of her silken strands and stared upward at the lifeless Aerith hanging from her trapped position. Hazel eyes flashed with rage as he glared back at her, “You…”

Elise chittered in amusement as his body spasmed, her toxin pervading through his system. He fired off a blast of magic but widely missed.

“A pleasure to finally meet you Cyrus, dear,” she murmured as her carapace receded, giving way to pale skin and crimson lips.

She stepped over to the ever trusty shard of petricite, replacing it in its pouch. “What say we go on a little journey, hmm?”

Her attic would make a proper interrogation site. Elise and her willing associate appeared close to the trapdoor, an area mostly devoid of webbing. The eerie glow from the red eyes of her spiderlings turned towards the commotion, and the air filled with chitters of curiosity. The arachnid mage tossed Cassiopeia’s sending stone to the floor, summoning the portal. Hilarious how just a little tinkering of runes allowed it to surpass protective wards.

She received a view of an empty room and frowned, glancing at Cyrus who had been left upon the floor. He faced the ceiling and couldn’t turn his head to look at her.

“Be right back, dear. Don’t go anywhere,” she told him and stepped through the portal.

Elise spent her time snooping as she waited for Cassiopeia. The ornate dagger that was on display next to her golden claws had a serpent twisted around the handle. It pulsed with a distant magical aura. An hourglass held fine grains of glowing sand, and Elise was tempted to turn it upside down just to watch them fall. There was a new addition – a painting above the headboard of the serpent’s enormous bed. It depicted the landscape of Shurima, complete with contrasting shadows that cut across the golden sand as the sun all but peeked over the horizon of a glamorous city.

Cassiopeia had very good taste in jewelry, she thought as she wandered over to the dresser. There was a pair of silver earrings that Elise took a liking to in one of the boxes. They outlined the geometric shape of small pyramids stacked upon one another, creating a chain. She put them on for her own amusement. The closet had a plethora of dresses and tops. She found pants shoved into the corner.

Elise eventually grew bored and flopped onto the bed. The scent of cinnamon and myrrh, followed by a fragrance she couldn’t immediately identify, flooded her senses. She hummed in appreciation. A lot of women enjoyed heavy perfumes with overwhelming aromas that made her lip curl. Fortunately, Cassiopeia was not one of them. She heard voices in the hallway, and the door opened.

Cassiopeia’s cat-like eyes widened a fraction before she hurried the rest of her long tail within the room, slamming the entryway shut.

“You sure know how to keep a woman waiting,” Elise teased, resting her head on a fist as she turned to her side to leer at the younger Du Couteau sister.

“You’re one to talk,” the serpent shot back, “I’ve been calling you all night. Get _off_ my bed.”

Oh right. She had placed a silencer spell on the sending stone.

“Mmm, but it’s so _big_ ,” Elise drew out the last word as she made a point of starfishing on the mattress.

She jumped as a thick, scaled tail abruptly slapped the spot next to her head. “And take those off. They look horrid on you,” Cassiopeia had her arms crossed disapprovingly.

Elise grudgingly got up and reached for the earrings she had stolen. “Here I am, about to deliver some news and I have to deal with your catty attitude,” she grumbled.

“You’ll need to stay in my good graces somehow, considering you have no sense of fashion,” Cassiopeia slithered over to the dresser, holding out the box for Elise to return the lifted jewelry.

“Oh please, your Shuriman styles are literally glorified rags,” the spider rolled her eyes. 

The snake snapped the box shut, almost catching the other woman’s fingers. Elise shot her a warning look. The serpent only smiled. “They’re breathable,” Cassiopeia answered matter-of-factly, “Much more so than your leather bondage costume.”

“Oooh, someone sounds interested,” Elise husked, leaning into her personal space.

Cassiopeia didn’t back away. She tilted her chin upward. “The only reason why you’re still alive is because you have a job to do, so _get to it_.”

Elise made a point of eyeing her playfully, but that expression morphed into thoughtfulness as she began to ponder. Cassiopeia replaced the jewelry without breaking eye contact. “ _What_ , Elise?”

“What did you do to get Swain’s attention?”

The younger Du Couteau sister blinked once at her. Then twice. “Jericho Swain, the grand general of Noxus,” she stated.

“No, the janitor on 9th street,” Elise deadpanned.

Garnets narrowed at her, but Cassiopeia didn’t rise to the bait. The gears in her head turned as there was a slump in conversation. “I have never been in direct contact with him,” she said at last.

“But you have had indirect contact?”

The snake’s brow furrowed, “I have a large network. It would not surprise me. However, there is nothing that comes to mind that would serve as a good reason for him to come after me, especially so suddenly. For the sake of my siblings, I prefer to stay away from matters of the high command. How did you come to such a conclusion?”

Elise snapped her fingers and the portal re-opened. “This friend of yours I’ve captured works for him.”

Cassiopeia tilted her head so that she could clearly see through the rift. “So this is why you cut me off for the entire night,” she mused to herself, loud enough for the spider to hear.

Elise flashed her a smirk and gestured for her to go through, “Couldn’t have anyone interrupting my hard work.”

Cassiopeia’s focus went first to the multitude of spiderlings that surrounded them, though her expression was more of interest than disgust. Cyrus was twitching slightly, and his eyes focused upon Elise’s as she bent over him. “What an obedient darling,” she cooed, “I brought someone to see you,” she grabbed his chin harshly, “This one here has a tendency towards petrification magic, don’t you?”

He didn’t respond. Elise tutted. “Now, don’t be shy. Don’t you want to meet the person you’ve been trying so oh-so-hard to frame?”

Her claws dug into the side of his jaw as she forced him to look at Cassiopeia. To her dismay, Cyrus didn’t seem afraid. “We can make this easy or difficult. Your choice.”

More silence. The spider shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She raised her hand, intending to tear the side of his face open, but a strong hand around her wrist stopped her. “Allow me,” Cassiopeia’s peridot gaze hadn’t left Cyrus.

Elise pressed her lips into a thin line. But if the snake wanted to get her hands dirty, then so be it. Slowly, the spider lowered her arm, stepping aside with some curiosity. She shot webbing towards the roof, binding it to the spy’s cocoon and dragging him upright so that he faced the serpent properly. He seemed slightly more concerned upon seeing Cassiopeia, and Elise wondered why. The snake blew something through the air, an invisible poison that struck Cyrus square in the face. He blinked rapidly.

“He’s been mostly paralyzed,” the arachnid mage stated bluntly.

Cassiopeia eyed her. “I’m well aware. Don’t patronize me.”

Elise suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and crossed her arms instead.

“Now, who do you work for?” the serpent’s voice was as smooth as silk as she encouraged Cyrus to answer.

The spy’s head lolled, and he stared at her, unfocused. “Teleneus,” he answered slowly.

Cassiopeia threw Elise a questioning look before continuing. “Was he the one who wanted me framed?” she asked, stroking his cheek gently.

“I was never asked to frame anyone.”

The snake shot the spider an accusatory glare. Elise sighed as a creeping feeling hit her gut. She returned to her spot next to the snake. “Who ordered you to use the petrification spell on the Lambertis?”

“I don’t know any petrification spells.”

Elise grit her teeth. “Elise,” Cassiopeia’s gaze could cut diamonds as she gradually turned to face her, all with the grace of a viper poised to strike, “Did you bring me the _wrong person_?”

She didn’t respond and instead marched up to Cyrus, pushing the webbing down from his neck.

 _A feather tattoo_.

How had she not noticed it when she bound him? “No,” Elise stated, crimson eyes narrowing in annoyance, “we just need a different approach.”

“He-“ Cassiopeia began to argue, but Elise threw up her hand to silence her.

She drew the teleportation circle in the air, large enough to carry a company of three. Webbing was shot over Cyrus’s eyes, ensuring that he wouldn’t have the faintest idea where he was being taken. Together, they surged through space and into the Black Rose headquarters.

LeBlanc was not alone. Elise entered with her party in a snap of magic, demanding the attention of all occupants in the room. Arabelle and Mira stared at her in surprise while the matron’s keen ambers roamed the agitated Cassiopeia and bound Cyrus.

Elise hooked one of her spider legs around his bonds, tossing him before the matron. “Check him for lapses.”

She received a look of warning from LeBlanc for her disrespect before the arcane mage slowly got up and circled her desk. “Who is this?”

Elise had the sense to bow her head at the very least, “Teleneus’s – and Swain’s – spy.”

“Why is _she_ here?” Arabelle’s cutting tone sliced through their conversation and directly towards Cassiopeia, who bristled at the aggression.

“And you are?” the snake hissed, her slitted eyes narrowing even further.

“Someone who isn’t happy with all the problems your presence has been causing.”

Cassiopeia bared her fangs, “What would you-“

LeBlanc tapped her staff to the tile, creating a loud clacking sound that silenced the impending argument. Arabelle looked somewhat chastised, but Cassiopeia’s glare only intensified. The matron readjusted her grip, tipping the glowing purple crystal toward Cyrus’s head. He cried out as it made contact, and Elise’s fingers twitched at the memory of her own experience. There was a flare of light, and it faded as his body went limp.

LeBlanc met Elise’s gaze and nodded. “I believe a force with powerful psychic abilities is controlling them. One strong enough to surpass the mental wards of this sanctuary.”

Elise bit her lip. If something was possessing various people, and those victims couldn’t remember the deeds they had committed, it was impossible to trust who had been affected. The only signs seemed to be memory lapses and the tattoos, but even then-

“Am I going to receive a better explanation, or are we going to stand here all night?” Cassiopeia tapped her fingers impatiently over her crossed arms, eyes flicking between Elise and LeBlanc.

Mira spoke up, although her tone held significantly less bite than the serpent’s, “I would like to know as well. Is this related to my parents’ murder?”

LeBlanc raised an eyebrow at Elise, a look that said, _You were the one who barged in here. You deal with this._

The spider took a deep breath. “Yes, and perhaps more. I’ve found a perplexing pattern while investigating the petrifications,” she rolled Cyrus over and pointed at the feather on his neck, “This tattoo is present on everyone who has been discovered with traitorous intent. It fades when they die. Furthermore, all those people have experienced lapses in memory in which they have forgotten what they did,” she turned to LeBlanc, “I believe the spy who gave you false reports would have experienced the same. It’s why it’s been so difficult to pinpoint the root of this situation.”

Arabelle scoffed, “That’s easy enough. Find people who have a feather tattoo. Anyone with an illusion around their necks is likely a target.”

Elise’s wine-red gaze narrowed at her, “It may not be so simple.”

Did this mean Swain was another victim? Or was he the source?

Arabelle shrugged carelessly, “Then get rid of her,” she pointed towards Cassiopeia, “Whoever it is that has its sights on the Black Rose is clearly targeting her.”

The spider stepped in her sights. “Not an option.”

Arabelle scowled, “Why? Are you working with her?”

“Quite frankly, that’s none of your business,” Elise growled.

“What have you got to hide? Unless you-“

Mira stood suddenly, interrupting Arabelle. “I believe we should take the night to reflect upon this new information,” she said quickly, “Matron, we’ll return in the morning to hear of any news,” she bowed before tugging insistently at Arabelle’s arm.

The arachnid mage decided she liked Mira. LeBlanc only dipped her head in acknowledgment, her expression neutral. Elise held her tongue as Arabelle threw her one last dirty look before following Mira out of the room.

She counted two breaths before LeBlanc spoke, “You never informed me of this development involving tattoos.”

Elise spun on her heel to face her. “It was an investigation in progress,” she ground out.

The matron only hummed at the excuse, “Did you wish to inform me of anything else?”

LeBlanc’s tone was light, but it made her want to scowl. “When I visited Teleneus in his prison, there was a moment in which he acted strangely; as if he was suddenly numb to what was happening around him. He didn’t seem like himself at all. I’m assuming that was one of the ‘lapses’. Come to think of it,” Elise recalled the moment between him and Cyrus, “his behavior was odd as well when his spy reported…” she trailed off.

Blinked.

“I think the possession happens through direct physical touch.”

Her heart dropped to her stomach. But she had touched Teleneus. And Cyrus.

Yet, she hadn’t found herself losing time.

Did her spider form make a difference? She had clawed gloves on in her human form.

These thoughts ran at lightning speed through her mind, whirling in such a jumble of brief panic and attempted reassurance that she almost missed LeBlanc’s next words.

“Does this mean I should be concerned for you both?”

Elise swallowed. LeBlanc could be devastatingly perceptive.

“Of course not,” Cassiopeia answered. There was a secretive smirk on her face, though Elise didn’t know why.

The matron’s attention turned to the serpent, “Cassiopeia dear, I do apologize for Arabelle’s erratic behavior. I can assure you she’ll be properly disciplined. Elise?”

“No lapses,” the spider answered shortly, keeping her voice level. _Not since you invaded my mind anyway_ , she thought bitterly.

LeBlanc didn’t reply immediately but instead glided back to her desk to take a seat. “If your theory is true, we have quite the list to exhaust and few people we can trust. Tell no one. I will inform Vladimir myself. Mira and Arabelle may know too much, and I will see to it they are taken care of if that is the case,” amber eyes were cold and calculating as the matron of the Black Rose leaned back in her seat, “Quite frankly, that applies to everyone.”

Her threat was clear.

Cyrus was locked in the prison, with the specific order to never be directly touched, and Elise and Cassiopeia’s found themselves back in the attic that made up the Spider Queen’s nest. “LeBlanc is not pleased with you,” the serpent stated. She coiled her tail and leaned her hip against one side, facing Elise with a curious expression.

“Well, I’m not too happy with her either,” the spider returned.

“You’ve known her for quite a while then. Most people are too terrified to even consider that thought.”

Cassiopeia was fishing. “You could say that,” Elise said, and turned the tables, “Why aren’t _you_ afraid of her?”

The snake chuckled humorlessly, “The same reason I’m not afraid of you.”

Elise’s attention veered towards her. “Meaning?”

Cassiopeia shook her head. “That’s enough about me for today. Take me home.” When the spider didn’t move, she smiled, “Or I can slither out your door and cause mass panic. The choice is up to you.”

Elise rolled her eyes and her magic flared to life.

* * *

LeBlanc was right. Vladimir sounded tense when he contacted Elise, enough for her to drop her book mid-sentence and make her way over. Arabelle and Mira were present as well, though the latter had her shoulders hunched and the former was ranting, pointing to a young boy kneeled on the floor. His hands were bound with magic, and Elise could see a portion of his collar had been burned away to reveal a feather tattoo.

She made eye contact with Vladimir as her smoky form solidified.

“He was nosing about the private section of the library this morning. I grabbed him to have a look, and as I expected, a tattoo on his neck!” Arabelle gestured wildly towards the boy.

Elise tossed Vladimir an incredulous look. He shrugged helplessly. “I was just looking around!” the boy protested, “I didn’t break any rules! And I’ve never gotten a tattoo! Please!” His voice cracked.

LeBlanc had a hand to her temple as she placed her elbow upon the armrest of her chair. She did not acknowledge Elise. Arabelle’s next words were lost to her as the spider suddenly saw the most peculiar thing. The air shimmered around Arabelle’s neck, and when it cleared, Elise froze.

A feather tattoo.

It happened next to Mira, who scratched at the spot.

Elise must have appeared very alarmed because LeBlanc’s focus zeroed in on her. “What is it, Elise?” she asked sharply, cutting Arabelle off.

The spider’s hand hummed with magic as she forced Arabelle to spin around.

“Hey!” The woman immediately pulled away from her mental grasp, but LeBlanc had already seen what she needed to.

“Arabelle, it seems you’ve been affected,” the matron murmured. She stood unhurriedly, though her brow was furrowed.

“What?” Arabelle practically shrieked, as Elise did the same to Mira.

“Both of you, actually,” Elise stated just as a prickling sensation tickled the nape of her neck.

She saw Vladimir reach up to his neck and caught the tip of a feather tattoo there as well. “It’s on all of us,” the hemomancer breathed after his attention briefly flickered to the mirror behind Elise.

A flare of aggressive magic made her step back reflexively. Mira stumbled away. Arabelle lost it. “I will not stand to be accused when all I have done is attempt to find justice for my brother!” she yelled at LeBlanc, whose expression was looking more dangerous by the second. A finger pointed wildly at Elise and Vladimir, “If none of you can be trusted, then I-“

There was no verbal warning when the crystal upon LeBlanc’s staff flared, arcane magic bubbling from her being and shooting throughout the room. Elise put a hand over her eyes so the bright flashes of purple wouldn’t blind her, feeling wave after wave of the matron’s violent magic pulse across her skin. Her spider legs tightly curled around her torso.

The room was abruptly normal again, though Elise could still feel it shaking. She put her arms down, realizing that it was she who was trembling. She heard Vladimir gasping next to her.

Before LeBlanc was three piles of ash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcomed! If there are any scenes between the two that you want to see in the future, let me know, and I can incorporate them if I see it fit. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cassiopeia inadvertently encourages Elise's alcoholism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OnionsAreDisgusting has a sudden obsession with bees.

LeBlanc rarely lost her temper. It was one of her many qualities that had allowed the Black Rose to survive for centuries, even in times of pure darkness. Her ability to think rationally under pressure was unmatched. She executed her plans flawlessly even under the direst of consequences, accurately predicting each and every move of her opponents.

Until Swain.

LeBlanc hid it well, but Elise knew his betrayal had made the matron see red for the first time in years. A master strategist with potential that rivaled LeBlanc’s had been the Black Rose’s to cultivate into a powerful figure. Or so they had thought. Swain had pulled their secrets bit by bit, until the day he grasped the heart of Noxus for himself and turned his back on them. Their cabal was a worm in his empire, and he, who had once been one of their own, knew exactly which strings to pull until the whole organization unraveled and collapsed upon itself.

Elise stared at the piles of dust on the marble tile until she heard the matron inhale deeply. LeBlanc calmly sank back into her seat, as if she hadn’t just murdered three of her own people in cold blood.

“There was no need for Swain to fool me,” the matron murmured, and Elise found herself taking a step closer, “He only needed to fool everyone else. He knew sowing the seeds of doubt would lead to this.” Her amber gaze focused upon the floor.

Elise was hesitant to break the silence that followed after. LeBlanc’s expression was neutral, but her stance was tight, and that was when she was most dangerous. Her mind was turning rapidly, scheming into every nook and cranny to find every possible loophole, and gods forbid if anyone interrupted her. Elise glanced at the mirror as she waited. The feather tattoo was gone. She sensed faint illusionary magic in the air, but the spell had been broken. LeBlanc had already done exactly what Swain intended. Checkmate.

“Vladimir,” the matron said at last, “you have the list of Swain’s trusted associates. Use the poison. I trust you and your spies have gathered enough information at this point for the operation.”

The hemomancer dared not argue. He bowed deeply and strode out the door without even a glance at Elise. That left her with the Matron of the Black Rose, whose temper was still hanging by a thread. Elise held her head high, refusing to be caught staring submissively at the floor when LeBlanc turned her attention to her. Amber depths were dark with fury, but she met them with a level stare of crimson.

“Watch Cassiopeia. She is more powerful than anyone else we’ve recruited in the past few generations. Show no mercy, Elise.”

Arabelle, in all her fury, may have sent an assassin after the serpent. Swain’s motivations were also still unaccounted for. But there was an underlying message in LeBlanc’s tone.

_If Cassiopeia betrays us, kill her._

LeBlanc would not make the same mistake twice.

Elise dipped her head and absconded, unwilling to be within range of the matron’s wrath. It was only on her way to Du Couteau mansion did she remember the deal she and Cassiopeia had made.

Shit.

* * *

Elise might as well have made a new nest due to the number of spiderlings she planted on the Du Couteau property. There were two in Cassiopeia’s room.

“Your voyeurism is getting a little out of hand, Elise,” the serpent crossed her arms, entirely unamused as she watched the arachnid mage reinforcing the wards in her chambers, “Have you considered seeing someone?”

“LeBlanc is keeping tabs on you. Swain wants you dead and all these people are getting brainwashed,” Elise’s hands glowed blue against the wall. There was a strange spell here, one that kept air from directly circulating out into the hallway. She saw it occasionally, mostly in noble households in which they wanted each room to smell of a specific scent.

“Ah yes, you’re one of her pet drakehounds at her beck and call,” Cassiopeia received a sharp look at the comment, but it only made her smirk.

“She and I have our own agreements.”

“Mmhmm, can’t ever find wrinkles on your skin, can we?” the snake burst out laughing.

Elise’s lip curled into a sneer, “At least I have the option of making myself presentable.”

Cassiopeia tsked at the comment, and the spider turned away triumphantly, surveying her work. “I’ll know immediately if anything happens.”

The serpent was beside her, “It seems as if you’re more interested in watching than protecting me,”

Elise eyed her. “I’m doing both.”

“Oh?” Cassiopeia drew the word out curiously.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” the spider responded, “I told you the Black Rose would be the safest for the time being, but this is the result since you refused to listen.”

The serpent sighed in exasperation. “No one has managed to get even close to harming me, and I have my own precautions,” she turned away and slithered towards the couch, where a spiderling was perched, “Will these need to be fed and watered?” she inquired innocently, prodding one carefully on the abdomen.

It took a step forward, pedipalps raised curiously. It was the one with the crimson front leg. Elise remembered it hatching.

“No, Cassiopeia. Don’t touch them.”

The serpent, of course, didn’t listen. “These would be significantly more adorable if you weren’t stalking me through them.”

Elise rolled her eyes, “Keep it in your pants.” The snake made a face at that. “I need wine.”

She teleported home. Cassiopeia was still playing with her new pet as Elise chose a bottle of Merlot. The spiderlings weren’t exactly alive since they were composed of magic, but they did hold a certain degree of sentience. They responded to sensations as well as the Spider Queen’s influence. Elise did, however, do a double-take when the spiderling crawled willingly into Cassiopeia’s lap and settled there. Right. Perhaps it was simply responding to her mental order of ensuring nothing harmed the serpent. “Elise, I wonder,” she heard Cassiopeia say, “do your spiderlings reflect your feelings?”

They responded to her negative emotions, mostly. Elise had never seen her spiderlings be anything but aggressive to those outside the brood. Except for Vladimir and LeBlanc, of course. All spiderlings connected to the hive mind would never harm them. _It is theoretically safe to sleep inside one of her nests_ , she’d told Vladimir once. He had refused to look at her for the rest of the day. So, perhaps they did project her feelings to a degree. Not that she had anything to do with the spiderling crawling onto Cassiopeia for whatever reason. Elise didn’t bother dignifying the serpent with a response and opened the cabinet for a wine glass.

The rest of the day passed without much incident. Vladimir contacted her once, seemingly out of boredom as he waited for the sky to darken.

“ _If you can guess how much time it requires for Cassiopeia’s poison to act, I’ll give you five hundred gold_.”

Elise snorted into their telepathic communication, her onyx ring glowing as it maintained their long distance connection. “ _And what do you get if I’m wrong_?” she drawled in return.

“ _What did Emi give you to convince you to speak with her again_?”

“ _That’s immensely in your favor, Vlad_.”

The hemomancer sounded offended, “ _Well, of course, it is! Fine. What if I’m able to guess the wine I know you’re drinking within three attempts_?”

Elise nonchalantly lowered the glass at her lips. “ _What makes you believe I’m drinking_?”

“ _You’ve been an alcoholic for hundreds of years. I have eyes._ ”

The arachnid mage sighed.

“ _Come now. Sauvignon. Pinot Noir. Chardonnay.”_

“ _You’re disgustingly desperate_ ,” Elise scoffed.

“ _I’d choose Emi over you, but she isn’t in a good mood at the moment. I haven’t seen her disintegrate anyone like that in centuries,”_ he said woefully.

“ _I told you we should have killed Swain when we had the chance_.”

 _“Oh please, darling. Our lives would have ended preemptively on the guillotine. Swain is hers. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,”_ he quoted.

“ _Perhaps that is the root of this problem_ ,” Elise mused.

There was nothing but a drawn-out silence for a few minutes, making her believe that was the end of the conversation. Then she felt Vladimir’s mental consciousness press against her own, “ _Swain often preferred vampiric magic. A mixture of yours and mine, even. Don’t you find it rather odd that he would settle for mind control to get at Emi?”_

_“He returned from Ionia with a demonic hand and a four-eyed raven. I’d wager he would use whatever he has at his disposal.”_

The quiet pervaded after that, and the magic in her ring dimmed. Elise finished her drink, eyeing the level of alcohol left within the bottle. There was still half. She debated having another but decided against it. She was _not_ an alcoholic.

Her spiderlings were doing fine. Cassiopeia had a book of Shuriman politics open as she lounged on the couch. The spiderling that she had apparently claimed as a new pet was perched upon the sofa arm. Elise wondered if she ever indulged in recreational reading, or if, like herself, the snake read only to expand her knowledge.

She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she jerked awake. Moonlight filtered eerily through the window and struck her face; the offending lunar body itself was full and round. Elise sat up, instinctively checking upon her brood for danger. One of the spiderlings near the front gate of Du Couteau mansion had spotted a figure marching up the doors. They knocked loudly, almost in a panicked fashion, and Elise narrowed her eyes, even though she knew it would do nothing to help her pet’s vision. She could only tell that it was Katarina who opened the door due to the shock of red hair. The two exchanged terse words until the figure abruptly pushed past the assassin in a burst of magic.

Elise tensed and immediately began to channel. This was why Cassiopeia should have listened to her. Her world tilted and she burst through the cloud of smoke brought about by the teleportation spell. She dashed towards the front gate but froze as she spotted a figure down the street. A white humanoid, whose face was covered in a dark mask, stood calmly, facing her direction. Albino hair jutted out in a mane-like fashion from their head, and wisps of shadow drifted from their form in an almost lazy fashion. The sight made Elise’s heart kick into overdrive, and she inhaled sharply, blinking several times.

The figure was gone.

She turned away, willing herself to focus. The front door had been slammed shut, and it seemed a magic spell had caused it to automatically lock. Placing her palm against the hardwood, she felt the vibrations of running footsteps. Multiple pairs. She headed towards the back of the mansion, spying through her spiderlings as she did so. Cassiopeia had awoken, though her movements were still groggy. She directed her spiderlings towards the door so that they could jump upon whoever decided to burst-

A shock of nerves jolted up her spine as Elise rounded the corner and spotted the white figure again, this time perched in a tree. The curved, glowing bow they held close to their side thrummed with unshed power, and a cloud of smoke gazed at her through its white mask, smiling in a show of razor sharp teeth. The mage’s hands were immediately alit in writhing wisps of dark magic, but the Kindred did not move. Wolf circled Lamb again, chuckling to himself at Elise’s reaction. She didn’t need to look down to know her arms were shaking.

They had appeared after her first sacrifice to Vilemaw, when she transcended the age of a mortal being upon Runeterra – when she cheated death and slipped out of its grasp. Occasionally they came to begrudgingly admire her work, but the threat of their mark hovering over her head was still an ineluctable reality. Elise was immortal, not invincible.

Lamb tilted her head before looking towards the window – a wordless encouragement. They were here to collect a mark, but only time would tell from whom. She took a running leap at the wall, morphing into a spider before crawling upwards and blinking through the protective charms. Her spiderlings leaped forward just as the door burst open, knocking the figure off balance and onto their back. They were blown off with a blast of magic.

Elise’s form crackled as she grew to her full size, leaping at the intruder with a screech. They wore a dark mask, but she didn’t care who it was. Cassiopeia couldn’t fulfill her part of the deal if she was dead. Spell infused hands held her head back just as her fangs were millimeters away from piercing skin.

“Curious,” a feminine voice sneered, “I had heard the Black Rose was harboring a monster working its way through our circle, but I never expected the Spider Queen to be one of the traitors. Stop attempting to cover your tracks. Too many already know the truth.”

Elise forced her fangs downward harder, “ _You know nothing but lies_.”

She sensed the flare of magic before she saw it and pulled back quickly as the air where her head had been exploded in a brief snap. Cassiopeia hissed, but remained coiled upon her bed, watching the fight with glowing chartreuse eyes.

“Cass!”

Katarina and Talon appeared at the doorway, but she held a hand up. “Don’t!”

The redhead’s gloved hand gripped the doorframe tightly, but she did not take another step forward, preventing her brother from entering as well. Elise didn’t have time to contemplate the oddity of the situation as the woman stood, her back ramrod straight. Her dark gaze pierced through Elise, triggering a familiar memory that danced at the edges of her consciousness.

The arachnid mage sank back into her human form, whipping out the petricite pouch in plans to subdue the woman. The intruder paused, practically flinching. Elise tensed at the reaction. A black wisp darted from the corner of her vision, and Wolf lunged forward with a snarl, fastening his jaws around her neck. The woman gripped her throat as her face took upon a constricted expression and sank to her knees. She heaved for breath, but only a strangled wheeze left her.

Elise relaxed her defensive posture, though confusion clouded her mind. Her fangs had never made contact. Neither had Cassiopeia. How then, was this woman dying? A poison spray from the serpent would have certainly affected Elise herself as well. She turned to Cassiopeia with suspicion. The snake held a neutral expression, though there was a touch of resignation behind her gaze. A muted clop of footsteps pulled Elise’s attention back to the dying woman. Kindred’s mark hovered over her head, and it shattered as she took her last breath. Wolf howled victoriously, and the sound echoed through Elise’s mind and sent chills down her spine. Lamb’s unearthly gaze turned to the spider once more, making her skin prickle.

“Remember Elise, those who run from death stand still in life,” her methodical voice was deceitfully soothing.

The arachnid mage snarled, knowing the Kindred had no power to hurt her. Not tonight. “What do you know about life? You only take it.”

“Life and death are two halves of the same whole. You cannot have one without the other,” Lamb replied patiently.

“Your hunt will come, coward!” Wolf bared his teeth, shadowy tendrils flowing from his mouth, “Yours, the witch’s, and the fiend’s. It will be delicious…” he let out a bark of laughter, blue eyes taunting Elise through his lamb-shaped mask.

She smiled with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Then you’ll be waiting an eternity.”

Lamb cocked her head, undisturbed by the response, “For us, tomorrow is a promise and never a hope. For you…”

“Tomorrow is a hope and never a promise!” Wolf cackled, flickering gleefully around Lamb.

“Elise?” Cassiopeia’s voice pulled her away from the Kindred, “Who are you talking to?”

“I-“ the arachnid mage glanced back, but saw only the lifeless gaze of the woman forever staring at the ceiling. She swallowed and found three pairs of eyes upon her. “No one.”

“Who _are_ you, really?” one of Katarina’s hands was closed around the hilt of a dagger at her hip.

Spider legs twitching, Elise glanced uneasily at Cassiopeia, who took a deep breath. “Kat-“

“No,” the redheaded assassin cut her off, “Let her answer.”

The corner of Elise’s mouth curved upward, “Someone who believes you should stay away from your sister’s business.”

Katarina sneered, “Don’t bullshit me.” She flipped a dagger into her hand from her belt.

“Kat,” Cassiopeia interrupted before Elise could stoke the fires even more, “She’s a bitch, but she’s here to help.” Elise tossed her a disgruntled look.

A tense silence filled the room before the Katarina finally returned the blade, “I don’t trust her.”

Elise tossed her a grin, “Good. I wouldn’t either.”

“Give us some privacy,” Cassiopeia commanded, nodding to her siblings.

Katarina’s darker shades of green narrowed, but she reluctantly complied and closed the door.

“I was not expecting someone from the Black Rose to lash out. The matron led me to believe that the situation was under control,” the snake said quietly, “Perhaps it is time I returned to Urzeris.”

It was the same way LeBlanc spoke when she was displeased. A soft tone that betrayed no dangers of the speaker. Cassiopeia didn’t seem to be expecting an answer. She slithered off the bed, towards Elise’s spiderlings that had been tossed aside by the intruder. One was dead, its carapaced body already turning to dust. It seemed to have taken the brunt of the impact, considering the other, the one with the red front leg, was on its feet. It looked slightly disoriented but otherwise fine. Cassiopeia placed a hand to the side of its abdomen to steady it, and after a moment, it crawled upon her arm. The scene stirred an odd feeling in Elise’s stomach, and she felt inclined to speak up, “Arabelle is dead, but she must have sent this woman after you beforehand.”

The spiderling stopped at the serpent’s shoulder. She raised an eyebrow, “Dead?”

Elise pursed her lips. “An unfortunate accident. I suppose this counts as another of Swain’s indirect attempts to get at you for reasons yet still unknown.”

“Given his reputation, you likely will never find out.”

That made Elise scowl. “You doubt my ability.”

“No. I simply respect his.”

Which was a wise thing to do in her situation. Elise glanced back across the room and inclined her head toward the body, “What did you do to her?”

Cassiopeia gave her a cursory glance before her gaze darted to the dead woman still lying open mouthed upon the carpet. She glided over to her golden talons and put them on delicately, allowing the silence to drag.

The spider watched her movements, suspicion growing by the second, “Does this have to do with the reason why Katarina and Talon don’t come into your room?”

“I’m going to make some tea,” the serpent said instead of answering. She slithered towards the door, “Would you like some?”

It was an excuse to delay the inevitable, but it also hinted at a longer conversation. Elise didn’t cease her intense stare as she stalked after Cassiopeia out of her private chambers. The corridors were dark and lifeless, but she did not doubt that the two Du Couteau assassins were nearby. In fact, she spotted light filtering from around the corner as they descended the stairs, but Cassiopeia led her in the opposite direction. The serpent went about the motions of adding water and tea leaves to the kettle, but as soon as she started towards the stove, Elise zapped the pot with a burst of magic, boiling it immediately. That earned her a glare, but Cassiopeia grudgingly set the entire thing on the counter to let the leaves soak.

“Answer me,” Elise ordered.

She knew Cassiopeia was hiding her discomfort underneath a veil of impassiveness. The serpentine tail coiled beneath her, the tip curling and uncurling.

“Cassiopeia,” Elise warned.

She received a defiant emerald gaze this time, an almost frustrated and angry frown upon the naga’s face. “I’m poisonous, alright?” she snapped, and rolled her eyes at the spider’s sardonic look, “If I touch anyone, they die. If I’m in the same room as anyone for too long, they die. I just…passively emanate this poison all the time.”

Elise raised an elegant eyebrow, “Yet you’ve touched me multiple times….?”

Cassiopeia’s frown morphed into a grin, though it looked pained rather than charming, “You’re special.”

“I know,” Elise cracked a smirk.

“You didn’t keel over the first time I touched you,” Cassiopeia poured a cup of tea and offered it to the spider.

“So, you tried to poison me _and_ break my neck,” the arachnid mage shook her head at the proffered drink, “I don’t do caffeine in the middle of the night.”

“You entered a predator’s den. I don’t know why you were expecting a better welcome,” the naga quipped back.

Elise pondered for a moment. “You passive poison is…paralytic then, judging by what happened to that woman. So is mine.”

“Yes, therefore you’re naturally immune. Congratulations,” Cassiopeia raised her drink in a toast, though her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Does LeBlanc know?”

“Of course.” The snake fingered her pendant as she took a sip from her cup.

That bitch. Elise refrained from delving too deeply into her anger. The spiderling took that moment to hiss, waving its pedipalps over the steam of Cassiopeia’s tea. “Oh. And your little spider as well apparently.”

Elise eyed her tiredly. “That’s…not what he said.”

“Ah, it’s a he. His name is perfect then.”

Elise blinked. She wasn’t sure if Cassiopeia’s lack of fear of her spiders impressed or annoyed her. “You…named him.”

“Opheus,” Cassiopeia stroked the spiderling, and it _chittered for her_ , “He’s rather cute, isn’t he?”

Elise was at a complete loss for words. The snake tilted her head to look behind her. “Sister, would you like some tea?”

The arachnid mage glanced behind her but was forced to take a step back when she found Katarina practically nose to nose with her. “Well, aren’t you sneaky,” she plastered a confident smirk on her face.

The redhead did not respond. There was a _thump_ somewhere behind her from the direction of the stairs. “Kat?” Cassiopeia asked again.

The assassin whipped out a dagger so fast that Elise wouldn’t have been able to dodge it at all if not for her inhuman reactions. Still, the razor-sharp metal managed to brush her cheek, drawing beads of blood that peered through the thin cut. Elise’s clawed hand snapped forward and closed around Katarina’s wrist, throwing her towards the wall. The redhead flipped mid-air, pushing off the surface and lunging at Cassiopeia instead.

“Kat, what-“ the serpent was forced to duck as her spiderling screeched in alarm.

The tea spilled over the floor as the porcelain cup shattered and sprayed rough shards in every direction. Katarina rolled smoothly over the counter before taking up an aggressive stance at the other end of the kitchen, blocking the second entrance. Her face remained blank, eyes empty.

Elise didn’t have time to attack her again as something sharp embedded itself into her shoulder. She screamed in pain and pulled a dagger out just as Talon was upon her, right arm bearing an enormous blade. “They’re being controlled!” Cassiopeia snarled.

“Don’t let them touch you!”

Elise shoved his wrist, managing to redirect the weapon enough so that it wouldn’t slit her throat open. She felt the movement of air as it slid past her ear lobe. The attack left his abdomen vulnerable, and Elise kicked Talon across the room. He slid across the tile but was quickly back on his feet. That woman from the Black Rose must have made contact with them when she practically broke in. Shir. On a whim, Elise held the pouch of petricite towards Talon, and he hesitated, much like the intruder had.

Cassiopeia had managed to grip Katarina by her arms as her sister lunged at her, blades flashing. The snake held her there, even though Elise knew she was powerful enough to force her back. Growling, the arachnid mage fired a blast that blew the redhead out of the kitchen.

Cassiopeia’s angry lime eyes turned to her, “Don’t hurt them!”

Elise managed to shoot her an incredulous look before sidestepping Talon, almost tripping over the serpent’s tail. She had expected the petricite to hold him back. He continued with his momentum, heading towards Cassiopeia. Elise’s spider leg shot out, hooking around his hood and tugging him back. She slammed him to the ground, knocking him out.

“What did I just say?” Cassiopeia all but screamed.

“He was trying to kill me!” Elise shouted back, “We need to get out of here.”

The serpent glanced in Katarina’s direction, and the arachnid mage could see the redhead slowly getting up. “Follow me,” Cassiopeia ordered.

Following her actually turned out to be quite difficult, considering how long her tail was. Elise was forced to lag behind slightly as Cassiopeia headed towards the rear of the mansion. A dagger whistled towards her, bouncing off her shield spell.

“Here!”

Elise could see the night sky as Cassiopeia opened the door. She dashed towards it, shooting a stream of necrotic magic blindly behind her. They were in the gardens, surrounded by an assortment of flowers that provided absolutely zero cover. A fountain bubbled happily in front of them, and a tall tree grasped at the stars. Elise took the brief respite as a chance to teleport them away. She grabbed Cassiopeia’s shoulder and began to channel. The spiderling still clung to the serpent’s arm.

Nothing happened.

“What…?”

A powerful tail yanked her down by the neck, a blade soaring through the air where her head had just been. Elise blinked behind the tree trunk, daring a glance backward to see Katarina aiming at the serpent slithering behind the fountain. A burst of magic knocked the dagger out of her hand, and the redhead took a step backward as the ground at her feet erupted into a fury of black fire.

“What’s going on? Why can’t you teleport?” Cassiopeia’s confused glare fixed on her.

Elise remained pressed against the tree. “I don’t know! We can go over the wall instead, but I’ll have to subdue Katarina first!”

“No! Don’t touch her! I’ll do it!”

“Then hurry!” Elise urged, scowling. She didn’t want to have to deal with Talon as well if he woke.

Cassiopeia shifted forward but was stopped by a sudden hail of blades. Katarina was getting closer. Elise flinched as a dagger lodged itself into the sturdy wood of the tree. “We haven’t got all night!”

The naga peered out again but jerked back with a soft yelp as a dagger whirled past her nose. “Cassiopeia, if you don’t do something, I will kill her myself!” Elise snarled.

The serpent hissed threateningly at her, “Quiet! You’re not being helpful!”

Elise was getting ready to yell at her again as another blade passed between them. Cassiopeia took a deep breath, and the arachnid mage sensed the magic leaking from her bright gaze. The spider looked away, screwing her eyes shut as the serpent screeched.

It went abruptly silent, and she became aware of the chirping of crickets singing into the night. Elise peeked out from behind the tree, finding Katarina unharmed but as still as a statue. She held three daggers between her fingers, poised to strike again. Cassiopeia turned away from her sister. “Let’s go. It won’t last long.”

With their pursuer properly restrained, they hurried to the far side of the garden, and Elise gathered her power in her hands before releasing it in a brilliant blast, blowing through protective charms and concrete alike. Fragments of rubble exploded outward as the wall crumbled, leaving a gaping hole for them to exit. Elise waved a hand in front of her face, willing the dust to settle. She took a step forward but paused as Cassiopeia held her hand up. The spider squinted as the dust cleared, revealing a crowd of Noxians standing before them.

Every slack face had empty eyes to match, and their hands gripped loosely onto their cookware and kitchen knives – provisional weapons for an impromptu army.

“You’re kidding me,” Elise muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcome! Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cassiopeia adopts another pet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OnionsAreDisgusting is my new reminder app.

The brainwashed Noxians ambled forward, forcing the pair back. Elise looked past them, searching for illusions, figures in the back with glowing hands, or anything. This wasn’t normal mind control. A regular mage could take over perhaps ten people – twice that amount if they were extremely powerful. The scene before her was something else.

Ignoring Cassiopeia’s protests, Elise’s hands crackled with dark energy and she darted to the side, using her spider legs to scale the wall before leaping off and into the center of the crowd. She released her necrotic magic just before she landed, disintegrating everything around her into dust. Elise pulled the energy back to her as bodies fell and dissipated, greedily absorbing the life force from the unfortunate Noxians. The wound on her shoulder and cheek sewed themselves up with a brief tingle.

“Show off,” Cassiopeia muttered as she slithered over.

The serpent grimaced with disgust as she looked down. Her scales were covered in soot.

“Oh, don’t be upset because your reactions are too sluggish.”

Elise glanced around. _Kindred, where are you now?_ she thought bitterly.

A scream echoed down the street. A clamor came from the alleyway and a man fell out, scrabbling backwards on all fours. Following him was a woman – emotionless – with her hand held out towards his head. “No!”

He kicked at her, causing her to stumble backwards slightly. However, she recovered and continued to walk towards him. A crowd was slowly gathering around the man, and his cries of help abruptly cut off within the mass of bodies. They parted, and the man got up slowly, his eyes glassy and as empty as the rest. The Noxian crowd slowly turned to Elise and Cassiopeia.

And began running towards them.

Elise raised an eyebrow and moved to the side, bowing chivalrously to Cassiopeia. “All yours.”

An annoyed grunt came from the serpent before she hissed and spat purple poison to the ground in the direction of the advancing crowd. As the Noxians ran through, Elise saw their clothing wither and burn away, followed by skin and muscle. The first line of people crumpled to the ground when their legs could no longer support them, though their faces still betrayed no evidence of pain.

Both Elise and Cassiopeia uneasily watched flesh melt from their bodies as they continued to crawl forward on disintegrating hands. Their comrades suffered a similar fate, paying absolutely no attention to the danger Cassiopeia’s acid presented. A shrunken eyeball rolled forward after falling from a sunken socket. “This is madness,” the serpent breathed.

A quick survey told Elise more Noxians were headed towards them from multiple directions. Gods, the entire city state had been affected. She tugged at the serpent’s arm to pull her out of her reverie. They hurried towards the closest alleyway that held an entrance to the Black Rose labyrinths. A few more mind-controlled lackies attempted to follow them but were dispatched with ease. The bricks parted as Elise slid her finger over the runes, but before they had the chance to enter, the ground rocked with an enormous explosion. Alarmed, Elise spun around, spotting enormous plumes of smoke rising into the air from a distance. The high command fortress. Whatever Vladimir’s plan had been, she was quite certain that was _not_ it. She heard a few footsteps shuffle past the alley, but the mentally corrupted Noxians no longer paid them any mind as they headed in the direction of the blast.

Elise turned to the spiderling still clinging to Cassiopeia’s shoulder. “Take her to Aevus.”

She only caught a brief glimpse of the serpent’s surprise before she scaled the wall and perched upon the rooftop. The eastern side of the fortress had been blown apart, and from her vantage point, Elise saw people filling the streets and running towards the enormous building. Red lightning flashed from within the smoke. She attempted to teleport again to no avail.

Growling, the arachnid mage blinked from rooftop to rooftop, her concern growing as the forks of lightning became more frequent. She finally dared to enter the cloud of debris that floated near the ground, slapping a mask of webbing over her face to filter the dusty air. Someone ran past her, their face pale with terror. Their dark clothing was singed, but the cutting was clearly not that of a soldier. She grabbed him by the neck and his screamed echoed too loudly for her liking.

“Shut up!” Elise dropped him to the ground. “What happened?” she demanded.

He blinked as he recognized her, but his voice warbled with fright as her glare cut into him, “We were p-practically swarmed as soon as we entered. Lord Vladimir had to blow the wall apart to escape. I-I tried to teleport but something’s wrong. We-“

“Get out of here.” Elise cut him off impatiently, sensing that he would provide no further information of interest.

She headed deeper into the smoke cloud, blasting away several mind-controlled Noxians that shambled toward her. Dammit, she couldn’t see. Elise shifted into her spider form, and immediately sensed an enormous being not a block away. Considering its movements, it was focused upon someone. The ground trembled again as a powerful blast of magic erupted. Elise skittered closer, finally able to see what the hell was causing so much red lightning.

The figure of Swain floated in the air, held aloft by two sets of powerful raven wings. His long, light hair rippled with the force of the power emanating from his being as he threw blast after blast of magic towards Vladimir, whose back was pressed against the wall. The grand general’s aura was _immense_. Lightning whipped from his demonic left hand and hurtled at the hemomancer, who only barely managed to deflect it. It erupted into a shower of crimson sparks.

Elise shifted back to her human form, charging her own blast of dark magic and hurtling it at Swain. It collided with one of his wings, tipping him off balance for a few seconds. He regained his footing and turned towards her. Elise stared into blood red eyes with pupils as dark as the void. Vermilion markings that pulsed in time with Swain’s heartbeat covered his sneering face. No, that wasn’t Swain. That was a _demon_.

Elise flinched as an enormous, sanguine eye opened beneath her feet, glowing with ancient eldritch magic. She dove out of the way just before it flared with a loud screech, and she immediately began to sprint in the direction she had come. If Vladimir hadn’t used that brief distraction to get away, she could no longer help him. Dust still filled the air, but it was beginning to disperse. A corrupted Noxian guard brandishing a spear appeared from the smog to take a stab at her, but Elise vaulted over him, burning his face with necrotic magic as she passed. She blinked upward onto the platform of a guard tower. As she looked down, she could make out the sinister glow of maroon eyes watching her. Swain had made no attempt to follow.

She retreated, quickly following the fastest path into the Black Rose labyrinths.

* * *

Cassiopeia and Aevus were locked in a tense staring contest when she arrived. Elise exited the cloud of smoke, reforming to lean against the wall to catch her breath.

“What happened to you?” the snake asked, not taking her eyes off the chimera.

“I’ll explain later,” Elise gave herself a few more seconds, “Aevus, _est socius_.”

The chimera relaxed his defensive stance and turned his snout towards Elise in greeting. He yipped.

“Having fun?” the arachnid mage asked Cassiopeia.

The serpent tossed her an annoyed look. “You could have mentioned you were leading me to a chimera. I could have been eaten if not for Opheus.”

Elise shook her head at the name, reaching out towards Aevus as she lit a ball of manafire in her free hand and tossed it into the air. The chimera was bulky, with a silky, black fur coat covering his triangular-shaped head and muscled torso. His legs were scaled and gave way to retractable talons. A long, hooked tail slashed menacingly through the air. The top of Elise’s head reached only his shoulders, and he lowered his muzzle so that she could caress his cheek, large ears still twitching towards Cassiopeia.

“We need to go,” Elise said, “I saw so many Noxians under Swain’s control. It’s not safe here anymore.”

“How is Swain able to influence so many people at once? I thought it was impossible.”

Elise shrugged helplessly.

“And where are you planning to go? The majority of the Black Rose’s resources are here.” Cassiopeia pressed, “He just took over an entire city-state and turned everyone into mindless shells. You’re just planning to run and pray it settles itself?”

The arachnid mage couldn’t begin to form an answer and instead strode towards a section of the wall that served as a vault. It clicked open at the presence of her aura, and she reached in, retrieving a bag of holding the size of a small backpack.

Cassiopeia continued to badger her, her voice rising “Do we even know how this is happening? What is stopping him from reaching other places?” When-“

“ _I don’t know_ , Cassiopeia!” Elise stopped and turned on her, her temper on edge, “This whole thing doesn’t make any sense. Swain doesn’t even need to control the entirety of Noxus. He’s already the Grand General,” she took a deep breath, willing herself to think through their situation rationally, “I don’t know where Vladimir and LeBlanc are, but all of us have backup plans. This is mine.”

They stared at each other until the spider turned to rifle through her pack, ensuring that the temporary supplies they would need were present. She took out a simple saddle for Aevus. “We can…go to Urzeris,” Cassiopeia suggested quietly.

Elise sighed, her voice softer, “Maybe.”

She retrieved two metallic bands and wound them around each wrist. There was a soft _schlick_ , and three claws shot out from her knuckles, providing Elise with a nice pair of hextech weapons should her magic fail. They retracted with another click. “Hand to hand combat doesn’t quite suit you,” Cassiopeia commented as she watched.

“A last resort – though I know what I’m doing,” Elise felt the need to add.

The snake smirked. “I didn’t say I doubted it,” a mocking note entered her voice.

Aevus snuffled and took a step towards her, though he seemed more curious now than aggressive. Cassiopeia in turn, backed away uneasily as his snout entered her personal space. Elise swung the bag to her back and secured it as she watched the scene. “Your poison can’t hurt him either.”

Cassiopeia’s lime gaze flicked to hers before turning back to Aevus, who had cocked his head when she retreated. She raised her hand slowly, palm facing outward, and the chimera bumped into it, sniffing. Elise thought she caught the ghost of a smile on the serpent’s face. “Those aren’t eyes,” Cassiopeia said, peering at the line of orange photoreceptors where a creature’s eyes normally were.

“No. He can detect light, but he ‘sees’ with echolocation. Otherwise, he would go mad living down here.”

Aevus shoved his nose into Cassiopeia’s cheek. She yelped in surprise. Elise laughed. “He’s curious about your scent. He doesn’t run into half-snake people too often.”

The serpent huffed at the comment but continued petting Aevus, “Right.”

Elise watched her for another moment before striding over, “Let’s go. If we can’t teleport, we’ll have to use a transportation circle.”

“The Black Rose is very likely to be compromised.”

The spider nodded in agreement. “It is, but we’ll have to try unless you want to fight your way out of the city on foot.”

She held out her hand. Cassiopeia took it hesitantly, and Elise pulled her into a plume of smoke, rushing down the tunnels as Aevus chased after them. The serpent shifted in the uncomfortable chill, but Elise didn’t stop until they were close the Black Rose’s northern wing. The spider reformed gracefully, but Cassiopeia practically fell out, groaning as she leaned on her coils.

“Please don’t do that again.”

The arachnid mage found the illusion blocking the entrance and slipped her hand through, “What, has no one ever taken you mist dashing?”

Cassiopeia looked as if she might hurl. “I prefer carriages and horses, thank you.”

Elise glanced at her chimera, “Aevus, stay here while we check the perimeter. Keep silent.”

He purred softly before sitting back, as still as a statue. The hallway was extremely dim, and Elise waved a hand to disable the automatic lighting that activated when anyone was nearby. She listened, but only the silence deafened her.

“Blood,” the serpent hissed behind her, her tongue flicking back into her mouth.

It was faint, but Elise could also sense the iron tang at the back of her throat. She squinted, finding a dark spot on the ground that trailed to the right. She stepped closer. Her heels were difficult to muffle on the once immaculate marble tile. She dabbed some webbing into the puddle, and a thin strand of gooey blood followed the silk as she pulled it out. It had been here a while, but it led in the direction of LeBlanc’s wing. Unease settled in her stomach at the thought of the matron as a mentally corrupted husk. If it was even possible.

She felt claws scrabble at her shoulder before an arm circled around her waist and _picked her up,_ hoisting her backward. Elise’s spider limbs flailed and she kicked out instinctively, but her shoes only bumped against firm, scaley coils. A hand clamped over her mouth.

“Shh!” Cassiopeia hissed into her ear.

Elise heard it then. A soft wheeze further down the corridor. She wove an illusion of darkness around them as a figure appeared and limped past them, careless of the pool of blood in the center. It dragged its feet through, heading in the same direction of the trail. Something long and irregular was pierced through its chest. Elise thought she could make out the robes the Black Rose granted newer members. She held her breath until she was sure they were gone.

“You can stop stepping on me now,” Cassiopeia commented quietly.

Elise wriggled away from the serpent. “Why not just tell me?” she whispered harshly.

“I didn’t realize you were handicapped! Can’t spiders feel vibrations? Use your senses!” she scolded.

Elise bristled. Her night vision was better than the average human’s but she could only sense vibrations if a part of her was pressed directly against a solid surface. But they didn’t have time for explanations. “I have to find LeBlanc before we go to the transportation circle,” she ground out, striding after the figure.

They managed perhaps thirty feet down the hallway before Elise was forced to cast another illusion when someone else with a blank stare turned the corner.

Cassiopeia grasped her wrist. “This isn’t a good idea anymore. There could literally be a hundred mentally corrupted people wandering around the Black Rose at this point. We need to use another route.”

“We’ll fight them. You saw how easily-”

“ _Elise_. Those were regular people. Everyone here is a _mage_. You–” Cassiopeia cut herself off, and her grip around the arachnid mage tightened while she waited for yet another mind-controlled Black Rose member to wander past, “Don’t be a fool,” she finished shortly.

Elise inhaled sharply through her teeth, hating the truth in Cassiopeia’s words. LeBlanc hadn’t survived a millennium for nothing. She was fine. Growling she turned around. Aevus waited patiently and gave a soft trill when the pair emerged in the tunnels.

“There’s a path that leads to the outskirts of the Immortal Bastion,” Elise said, “but we’re just as likely to run into more affected people.”

“Better than the wider hallways,” Cassiopeia argued, “They’ll be easier to handle if they’re bottlenecked.”

Elise waved her hand, enveloping them in foggy mist, “Hold your breath.”

The tunnels were surprisingly quiet. Elise had expected people to be emerging left and right, but there was nothing. Surely, the demon would want–

Another presence burst into existence in front of her and she instinctively threw out her necrotic magic, intending to incinerate whoever it was to pieces. Her spell was met by an equally forceful arcane beam, canceling out the blast. Elise gasped, reforming with Cassiopeia next to her. She found a pair of arms around her neck, the scent of lavender wafting into senses as LeBlanc embraced her. Dumbfounded, Elise hesitantly wrapped her arms around her waist, unsure of how to respond to the sudden display of affection.

“I wasn’t sure if you were alright,” the matron murmured into her shoulder, “I attempted to evacuate the labyrinths, but I don’t know who made it out. The hallway was suddenly filled with so many corrupted people…” LeBlanc stepped back, though amber eyes roamed Elise’s body as if checking for injuries.

“Thank goodness! We thought the demon had gotten you. I attempted to contact you, but long distance spells don’t appear to be working,” a voice behind the matron said crossly, “And you brought Lady Cassiopeia as well! No more ‘accidental’ poisoning, I hope?”

The spider glanced behind LeBlanc, pleased to find Vladimir with one hand on his hip. Amurreoss, LeBlanc’s stag-like chimera with an eagle’s head, peered at her with bright blue eyes, and Elise was reminded of Lamb’s haunting gaze. Elrem clung to the chimera’s long, curved antlers.

“You didn’t mention a demon, Elise,” Cassiopeia’s voice filtered through her thoughts.

“I said I would explain later.”

“You can do so on the way,” LeBlanc gestured hurriedly, “We’re being trailed. For whatever reason, those from the Black Rose are not mist dashing, but it will not take them long to reach us.”

“The exit is blocked?” Elise stared into amber eyes. Shit.

LeBlanc snapped her fingers, and smoked curled around them before they were hurtling through space once more.

“Swain’s demonic symbiote seems to have managed to overwhelm his mind, though it is unclear what exactly transpired to lead to that result. The demon likely has all of his memories, so it anticipated that we would use that exit to attempt to escape,” Vladimir explained, “I did appreciate that brief distraction, Elise. I wasn’t expecting to be chased down.”

Elise hummed in response, “What happened prior to that?”

“I barely managed to pass the initial line of defense at the high command before I was swarmed,” the hemomancer started, “It was the strangest thing ever. I killed one guard and many more immediately rushed to my location.”

“Like a hive mind,” Elise commented, thinking of her brood – those nests that she would have to abandon when they left the city-state.

“Yes. And they were entirely immune to pain. I cut off one’s arm and he continued to slash at me as if nothing had happened,” Vladimir sounded dismayed, “We were forced to retreat, but they pursued us. Then Swain came.”

“The signature tracking charms I implemented at the Crimson Circle went into a frenzy even though the demon wasn’t even close,” LeBlanc said tightly, “The headquarters were already in chaos by then.”

Elise spent the next minute filling them in on what had happened at Du Couteau manor. She purposely left out Kindred. “What do you plan to do now?” she asked.

The matron was guiding them towards the spider’s mansion, a path taken by few and therefore unlikely to contain any wandering–

“Look out!” Cassiopeia hissed.

Another person came into view, and their blank face turned to the whirl of smoke before they raised their arm to cast a spell. Elise lashed out as she reformed, necrotic magic slicing the man in half horizontally. His torso slid to the ground with a soppy _plop_ as his legs collapsed, wet intestines and rivulets of dusky blood spilling out across the stone. However, the spell he was casting still went off, narrowly missing Vladimir as the hemomancer’s hands glowed.

The dying man began to draw on his own face, and Elise recognized the explosive rune forming. Blood began to leak from every open orifice as Vladimir’s magic worked – eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. The hand slowed to a stop as the man’s body paled whiter than a sheet, just before he finished the circle of the rune.

Elise breathed a sigh of relief.

Vladimir gathered the blood into a sphere that appeared black in the dim manafire and tossed it against the wall, splattering it across the rough surface. “Ah, shit,” he sighed, “They know where we are.”

LeBlanc raised her hand, brightening the manafire surrounding the group. Just ahead was Aveus’s nest, the wide clearing serving to confuse intruders attempting to enter Elise’s mansion. The matron strode forward. “This will have to do,” her hand lit with arcane magic, and a runic teleportation circle began to etch itself into the ground.

Elise was confused, “But long range spells aren’t functioning.”

“They’re being blocked,” LeBlanc corrected as she worked, “I’ve encountered this before. It can be overcome with multiple mages.”

“This will backfire onto us if it doesn’t work,” Elise warned.

Amber eyes pierced into crimson, “We _will_ do it. I will not have my mind taken by that _demon_ Swain harbors. There is no other option.”

The way she said ‘that demon’ with such familiarity…

But there wasn’t time to argue. Scales scraped against stone as Cassiopeia slithered around the chimeras to gaze down the tunnel. “I feel footsteps,” she murmured in a low voice, coiling into a defensive position, “Many of them.”

Elise pressed her hand against the wall. “Twenty seconds,” she whispered hurriedly.

“Done,” LeBlanc announced.

Aevus’s hackles rose as Amurreoss pawed at the ground. Elrem chirped shrilly. The three mages gathered around the circle, channeling their power through the runes. It remained dim. “Keep going,” LeBlanc intoned, sensing Elise’s rising panic.

Elise closed her eyes, willing her magic forward. It felt like she was forcing her power through a small needle. It wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she pushed. LeBlanc whispered in a foreign language, one so archaic even Elise couldn’t place it.

The barrier broke.

The circle flared brightly as its magic activated. Elise spotted Cassiopeia spitting poison into the blackness before she retreated with the chimeras. Someone fired a wide beam of fire, but Elise couldn’t raise her hand to block it as it hurtled towards the group. She closed her eyes, pouring all her effort into the teleportation spell.

Darkness enveloped her senses.

Elise stumbled forward, finding her balance on a familiar guard stone. They were in LeBlanc’s private vault. Sweat covered her brow, “Please tell me we’re not still in Noxus,” the arachnid mage gasped.

Vladimir had his hands on his knees. Elise caught a burn streaked across the pale skin of LeBlanc’s right arm, but it was quickly hidden within the folds of her cloak. “We are not,” the matron confirmed.

Relief flooded her. They were safe for the time being. Elise remembered the tour she had been promised and laughed to herself. It seemed so inconsequential now compared to the mess they were in. “Where are we?” she heard Cassiopeia ask. The serpent had her hands to her temples, rubbing them as if she had a headache.

“A place you won’t be seeing again,” LeBlanc answered vaguely.

Her tone was enough to deter the snake from asking more questions. A few taps of the matron’s staff opened a doorway before them, down another corridor. LeBlanc began to lead the way, but Elise had a thought. “Wait,” all eyes turned to her, “I’m not sure why, but petricite does something to the affected people. It slows them down.”

She leaned against Aevus. Her heart was still beating too fast. LeBlanc inclined her head and motioned to the rest of the group. “Go on.”

Vladimir gestured to Cassiopeia who, after a curious glance at the matron, slithered after him. Elrem launched himself from Amurreoss and flew after the pair. LeBlanc went through the familiar pattern of opening the petricite vault, retrieving three additional pouches.

“I-” Elise hesitated, remembering the ivory stone’s violent reaction to a certain serpent, “I wouldn’t give Cassiopeia one.”

LeBlanc’s amber gaze roamed her face as Elise held her breath. Trust was a scarce commodity between them these days. However, the matron replaced one of the bags and closed the drawer. “I’m going to the safehouse in Piltover. There are resources there that can help us. We must work as fast as possible to stop this demon before it spirals out of control.”

She left the unspoken question hanging in the air. _What will you do?_

Elise kept silent. LeBlanc’s gaze softened, “Elise, Swain wanted to tear the Black Rose apart from the inside. Don’t let him win.”

The arachnid mage scowled at her as the memory of her invasion clouded her mental eye. “You already did.”

LeBlanc’s uninjured hand brushed her cheek. “I know,” she admitted, “but you don’t have to.”

“What do you know about Swain’s demon?” Elise blurted.

She heard the matron inhale. The spider narrowed her eyes, “What are you hiding, Emilia?”

LeBlanc looked down for a moment, but then her gaze returned just as quickly, “What do you know of the Immortal Bastion, Elise?”

Elise’s lip curled in annoyance. “You’re planning to tell me some half-truth based on what I know. Don’t bullshit me. I want the _whole truth_.” She held the LeBlanc’s amber gaze steadily, challenging her to look away.

The matron didn’t. She opened her mouth, “Before the heralding of Noxus prime, the Immortal Bastion was not only the center of the Black Rose but a literal vault for ancient magic and arcane secrets. So flooded was that place with dark energy that a being came to life. It became a demon known as Raum, the Eater of Secrets.”

Elise crossed her arms, “So the history books left out a thing or two.”

“For years it fed on uncovered truths and preyed on the dying. It lent its power to the Black Rose, and we used it to defeat the Iron Revenant and seal away his armor. I tricked it and managed to lock it within the heart of the Immortal Bastion, but it escaped. Not completely, but enough to feed upon the war Darkwill instigated in Ionia.”

“And it found Swain.”

“Yes. He returned with a portion of its power and created the Trifarix. That part of history you know.”

The spider pondered the new information, turning it around in her mind. “Fine. Say I believed you. Why didn’t you attempt to reseal it?”

“The demon is still trapped in its prison, but I would need to ensnare the part of its life force that broke free.”

Elise began to pace, “Was this why you’ve refused to kill Swain this whole time?”

LeBlanc seemed to wince slightly, “If I did, the demon would simply find another host. It was significantly easier to keep track of it if he had it as a symbiote. The lesser of two evils in that regard.”

The spider stopped to look at her accusingly, “And why am I _just_ hearing about this now?”

The matron glared defiantly back, “Would it have helped you infer what was happening? You already knew Swain had demonic capabilities.”

She had a point. Elise exhaled angrily and continued patrolling between the guard stones, “Unless you’ve been keeping that a secret as well, we never managed to find out what exactly _was_ happening.”

LeBlanc summoned her staff and leaned upon it, “No. I only have a theory thus far.”

“Which is?”

“Swain would never let the demon control him in the fashion Vladimir mentioned. I believe it was originally his plan to sow distrust within the Black Rose to turn us upon each other. However, something unaccounted for occurred and enhanced the demon’s powers. It feeds upon secrets, so it regularly infiltrates a victim’s mind. I don’t believe it too farfetched for it to be able to influence a consciousness even further.”

“But to this degree?” Elise pressed.

LeBlanc only shook her head. She reached out, stopping the arachnid mage from continuing to pace. “I just know,” she started hesitantly, “that the more minds it touches, the closer it will get to breaking free of its prison.”

“Fantastic, a ticking time bomb.”

“I did hear you complain to Vlad at one point you were getting bored,” the matron smiled grimly.

Elise groaned, pressing a hand to her temple. She turned, ready to find Vladimir and Cassiopeia, but LeBlanc’s hand was on her shoulder. “What do you plan to do?” she asked softly.

The spider set her crimson gaze upon the purple crystal of the matron’s staff, once again remembering the pain this debacle had caused. Something brushed her mind, and her reaction was to flinch away, but she stopped. It pulled at her instead of pushed. She made contact hesitantly, and LeBlanc’s emotions flowed through her. Sorrow and regret. Perhaps fear as well.

The spider deflated, “I’m going to Demacia.”

LeBlanc’s expression furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“I need to find Sylas. He knows the secrets of petricite. I think he can help.”

The matron paused, and Elise detected a thread of concern. She was surprised when LeBlanc said, “Alright. Inform our contacts what has transpired while you’re there.”

When Elise continued to stare at her, she moved closer, reaching for the back of the arachnid mage’s neck, “Just–” LeBlanc started, but she stopped and searched the spider’s expression, looking for _something_.

The hand pulled gently, and Elise found a pair of soft lips upon hers. LeBlanc pressed their foreheads together as they parted. “Stay alive,” the matron murmured.

She stepped away, leaving Elise to dumbfoundedly follow her and Amurreoss down the corridor. Vladimir and Cassiopeia were conversing when they approached. The hemomancer raised a hand in greeting before jerking his thumb towards a cave-in behind them. “Ladies, I have good news. Nothing is getting in.”

“I would certainly hope so,” LeBlanc replied lightly as she passed him.

A wave of her staff revealed a few stairs leading to a trapdoor. It unlocked with a soft click once the matron drew a rune in the center. LeBlanc lifted it cautiously, causing rotting leaves and soil to slip through the gaps. The songs of crickets filtered into the corridor, and a black widow whose home had been disturbed fell onto the first step before skittering downward in panic. Elise held a hand out to the creature, and it crawled onto her palm before pausing. She searched its meager mind for recent memories of anything resembling a human.

Nothing but deer and wildcats.

Satisfied, she held the black widow out to the spiderling on Cassiopeia’s shoulder, who immediately snatched it in his fangs. The serpent didn’t even tense. “What happened to not requiring sustenance?” an expectant eyebrow arched in her direction.

“They _can_ eat. They just don’t _have_ to,” Elise replied as she marched up the stairs.

LeBlanc was explaining to Vladimir where she and Elise were going as they emerged into a sparse forest. The hemomancer made a face when Demacia was mentioned. “Elise, dear, I respect your tenacity, but I think I will find Piltover infinitely more pleasant. Don’t stay too long, now.”

LeBlanc had already mounted Amurreoss. Vladimir bowed to Cassiopeia, “Lady Cassiopeia, please take care of Elise. I await when our paths cross again.”

Elise bristled at the comment, but Cassiopeia only laughed. “It will be an honor.”

Vladimir dissolved into a river of red and snaked into Elrem’s body, causing his eyes to glow a soft pink. The chimera flapped twice and found a spot upon LeBlanc’s shoulder. “If you travel directly west, you’ll find the river you can follow to Nockmirch,” the matron informed Elise, “Good luck.”

She gave Cassiopeia a nod before Amurreoss sprang into action, leaping nimbly over gnarled roots and small bushes. Elise watched them go before hoisting herself onto Aevus’s back. He pawed at the ground impatiently, and she turned him to face Cassiopeia. “I can’t guarantee a safe passage to Urzeris if that is where you wish to go,” Elise began.

The serpent sighed, the end of her tail curling, “I suppose I’m stuck with you for the time being,” the corner of her mouth tilted upward, “Lord Vladimir does seem to be concerned for your wellbeing, after all.”

She didn’t take the proffered hand but instead rose to her full height, settling behind Elise and coiling once around Aevus’s torso, the rest of her tail balanced on his back. The chimera took the weight easily and dashed forward eagerly as soon as Elise gave the signal.

“I have half the mind to dump you in the river.”

The full moon illuminated their path, staring impassively upon them as it had the chaos in Noxus prime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all my readers for following me up to this point! Unfortunately, I am out of chapters to post on a weekly-ish basis, so updates will be much slower from now on due to my schedule. As always, feedback is appreciated!


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